


Smiles

by rhysdelamar



Category: Supernatural
Genre: DCBB, DCBB2014, Dean/Cas Big Bang 2014, M/M, Season 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 10:01:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 56,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2503784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysdelamar/pseuds/rhysdelamar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has been forced to become human when his grace was taken from him by Metatron. Now faced with the daunting task of being human, he recalls his memories with is most trusted friends to help him. Dean also has a task forced on him, one that requires him to build a foundation of lies. As he becomes stressed with the burden of his actions, he reaches out with hope. Slight AU that is canon compliant until mid-season 9. </p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of their characters from CW. I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story. Any and all real persons and situations are purely coincidental.</p><p>The Wonderful Artwork is done by Susanna K---->  http://vieroksuja.tumblr.com/</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Smiles. They are come often over Dean’s face, when he’s working a witness, charming a waitress or just being annoying to Sam. He has exactly forty seven facial muscles, four more than the average human. In those situations, he would use twenty one muscles to smile. He looks much younger when he does, unless you look at his eyes. Most miss it, but he doesn’t. Those smiles are hollow, not really coming from the core of him. They don’t come from his soul.

            This smile though, and its accompanying laugh were different.  He didn’t need to even look at Dean to know that this was sincere. His laugh was not forced at all, but truly spontaneous and it came from his soul unbridled.  True, this was at his expense because of his actions in the house of ill repute with the women in there. And he still doesn’t understand why Dean was finding all of this humorous, but it did not matter because Dean was carefree and happy. That in turn made him happy, though he did not understand why at all.

            Perhaps it was because of that smile and laugh that he had the audacity to call Raphael his bitch. He, Castiel was nothing but a lowly seraph and a rebel on top of that. Had it not been for the holy oil, Raphael would have destroyed him. Again. Having your grace torn apart at a molecular level is not pleasant at all. But hearing that laugh and seeing that smile, it was the first time he saw the beauty of free will. That was something worth fighting for. And so he emulated Dean, and he caught a small smile of pride from Dean when he turned his back on his older brother.

            That memory comforted him somewhat as he rode the bus to the Detroit. His grace used to bring him solace, so instead he used the memories he made this past year. Being human he realized wasn’t so bad. Weakened as he was, he didn’t feel powerless. Yes, his grace may be gone but he is more than just that now.  He was more than just Castiel, angel of the Lord. He is Cas, friend to the Winchesters and rebel. A rebel with a cause Dean told him once with a smirk. Of course, all his rebellions ultimately lead to was the downfall of heaven and his family’s eviction from there.

            Sighing, he looked out the window. He should have listened to Dean, should have waited and then none of this would have happened. These past several years have been trying for him and for all he knew. There haven’t been so many great changes happening since the first war in Heaven. Yet somehow, without God and with no luck, two human brothers with a crotchety old man and broken angel were able to stop the worst of it. Granted, half of the problems they made themselves, especially he himself by trying to become the new god, but they overcame them still.

            The grumbling on his stomach distracted him, making him sigh once again. After buying his ticket and getting the tattoo, he had no money left for food.  The choice of being safe or being full was a hard one to make. However, he figured that it was logical to be safe because if he was not protected, then he would be killed. The hunger he can fight for a while. An angel or a demon he would not be able to, not for long at least.        

            Looking back out, he wondered if he should call Dean to let him know where he is, and possibly, to wire him some money.  Shaking his head, he let that idea drop. Dean had enough to deal with right now with Sam. He shouldn’t be burdened with him as well. This was a problem of his own making, and he would find a way to deal with it. Checking to make sure his wound was okay still, he closed his eyes. May as well get some sleep in this relatively safe place while he can.

 

 

* * *

 

            He watched as Sam walked away to his bedroom, still no wiser that there was an angel inside him. Following him was Kevin, a dark cloud over him but still in the bunker at least. Seeing them turn the corner, he headed over the library and poured himself a couple of fingers of whiskey. Looking at the amber liquid for a couple of seconds before drowning it all, he thought about his little speech to Kevin.  The kid cried and he couldn’t blame him, not knowing if his mom was dead or alive. Kevin is family though, and with family, he fight tooth and nail for them. Hell, he had fought tooth and nail for them, he and Sam both. Cas too, even though technically, his family are bunch of winged dicks.

            “Cas…”, he murmured as he reached for his phone to call him since it has been a while when they last heard from him. He stopped midway when he realized that Cas had no phone to call. “Dammit,” he swore to himself, he has no way of knowing where the angel is right now. It’s been almost three days since they last spoke. That should have been enough time for Cas to get here, or at the very least, find a way to get a hold of him. Something in his gut told him something was not right, but then again, was there ever a time when something wasn’t? ‘Cas is a solider, he’ll find a way. He always comes back,’ he thought to himself.

 

* * *

 

           

            Staying at the bus station was not an option once he got off the bus. There was no point in trying to beg there since just about everyone there was asking for money.  The area was what he figured Dean would call ‘rough’ and now he could see why. To human eyes, this area was dilapidated, rundown not just in infrastructure but also people.  Even the homeless shelters were sad affairs to even look at, not to mention filled to capacity. So he had chosen to wander down alleys and dark streets, keeping to himself.

            Rummaging through a garbage bin behind a restaurant, he mindlessly tried to find something worth eating. His hunger had grown great since those beans he had under the bridge. On top of that, his wound had begun to itch and he knew that he had to clean it soon to prevent infection. Not for the first time, he found vessel maintenance without grace was a tedious affair. Finding a mostly intact sandwich, he checked it over for bugs and other garbage. Satisfied, he sat down in a doorway and tentatively took a bite of the food.

               It was edible, but hardly appetizing. But food was food and he needed sustenance of some sort. As he chewed, he recalled the time they tracked down Pestilence. Jimmy’s soul may have been long gone by then, but the body was still his and red meat seemed to hard wired into it. When he took Dean’s plate, he found the hamburger to be the most delicious thing he had ever eaten. Granted, it was the first thing he had ever eaten but that didn’t matter. Yes, he could taste the individual molecules but it was the harmony of them that produced taste.

            In that moment, he understood why Dean adored his burgers. He could have eaten meat in any other form, but somehow, burgers were just right. The beef, bread, sauces, condiments and cheese in balance with each other made the most perfect meal to him. Subconsciously, he knew he was emulating Dean but he had no other example to draw from to entice his hunger from Pestilence. Salads didn’t look appealing, though he knew the younger Winchester was correct in their health benefits. He wished he had a burger now, even the ‘crappy’ ones from fast food joints. 

            Finishing his food, he threw the paper wrapping in the bin again and huddled once more in the doorway. The alley was dark and quiet, only the occasional siren breaking the stillness. His hunger satisfied for the moment and the cold at bay, his thoughts began to wander again. The hunger and cold he can deal with because of their physical nature. He can endure those. What was ailing him now was loneliness. He had scarcely spoken to anyone since he killed his brother at the bus.

            When he was at the shelter and with the homeless, he was able to listen in to conversations, even join them on occasion. What mattered he found was that there was people around him. He knew it was instinct to be part of a group, even if he didn’t know these people well. There was some comfort knowing he wasn’t alone. These instincts seemed to make no sense to him, but at this moment, he wished he had some company.

            So he imagined what it would be like to be back with the brothers. Surely, he assured himself, that they would invite him to stay with them. Sam, if he was well, would help him at being human. Dean would too, but he knew the man well enough to know that he was likely to play jokes with him. He smiled at Dean’s attempts to humor him. That is one thing about Dean, he could be in deadly serious situation and still make light of it.  It was endlessly annoying, but at the same time, endearing. 

 

* * *

 

            The greasy breakfast did not look as appetizing as it did when Sam handed it to him. Sure Zeke said he was doing the right thing by letting him heal Sam but that entire switch thing was just plain wrong. If it weren’t the fact that Sam was at near death and he was lying to him, it might have been funny. As it is though, he couldn’t see any humor, or silver lining anywhere at the moment.

            As they sat down to see how they can try to find Cas, he thought about how the angel is doing. Yeah, Cas didn’t listen to him, again, but this time he knew it wasn’t really his fault. That douchebag  Metatron tricked them all, him included. And just like him, Cas did it for the right reason, it just happened to blow up in his face.

            When Cas called him when Sam was in the hospital, he was completely honest with him. In fact, it was probably the first time in a long while since Cas was totally open with him. And he knew it, which is why he wasn’t angry at all, though he had every right to be. No, he was actually _relieved_ to hear Cas’s gravelly voice, even if it was over the phone.  But hearing that he is human now, that he had no grace was like having a knife twisted in his gut. It’s not like the first time Cas had run out of mojo, but it was part of who he is. To him, Cas will always be a powerful warrior, full of grace and light. Sure, he made crap decisions, but then, who doesn’t?

            “Not hungry Dean?” Sam asked from across the table breaking his train of thought.

            “What?” he asked absently before he looked at his brother.

            Sam had a smirk and his eyebrows raised slightly, “your heart clogging breakfast Dean, you haven’t touched it at all.” Then his face become more serious as Sam scrunched his forehead and the smirk became a frown, “you’re worried about Cas?”

            He looked at the now cold food for a moment, “yeah, I am.”

            “Cas will make it, we’ll find him,” Sam said assuring him before leaning back, “we’ll find him before the other angels can. You think they all don’t have their wings?”

            He thought about it, “yeah, I think so. Back at the church I saw them burn off. But they still have some power.” He recalled the very one sided fight at the hospital.

            “Well, that gives us an advantage. We can probably get to him faster than they could.  You said he called from Colorado?”

            Leave it to Sam to find the one good thing. “Yeah, but that was almost four days ago. He should have been able to get here, or at least give us a call. And don’t forget, he’s human…” he lowered his voice, “he doesn’t know how to be human Sam. What if he gets locked up if someone thinks he’s crazy? Or he forgets to eat? Or hurt?”

            “Dean,” Sam said with a tone of comfort but also authority. “Cas isn’t stupid, he’ll know how to survive. Now, if you think that the angels are organizing and looking for him, he might not take a direct route here right? I mean, he might want to throw them off before coming here.”

            Nodding after a moment, “guess you’re right, but the longer he’s out there, he’s in danger.”

            “And I agree, the faster we find him, the better.” Sam opened his laptop and started typing while he pulled out some maps. Sam was right, the faster he was here back where it was safe, the better they all would be.

 

* * *

 

            Kindness is something that humans seem to have an abundance of he thought as he watched the women who gave him a sandwich go up the stairs. Angels are not kind. Angels can be merciful, but kind? Never. The notion of being nice for because it is the right thing to do would never occur to his brethren. No unless they were ordered to do so. He shook his head slightly at the thought of orders.

            He had hoped after the apocalypse, the angels would see the value of free will. That they no longer need to blindly follow orders but can rather choose what to do themselves. Most had no idea what he was talking about. Instead, after he refused Raphael, some rallied to him because he had a mandate from God and therefore had directions for them. That wasn’t the case, but to preserve the world that Sam and Dean fought for, he used them.

            Did he feel guilty about that as he again walked through the alleys aimlessly? Yes. He now knew he was never meant to lead. Every time he tried to take the mantle of leadership, everything fell apart. The loss of his fellow angels was grievous, but nothing hurt more than what he did to his friends, than what he did to Dean.

           

* * *

 

            “Look, for the billionth time, we’re just looking for some information, okay? We’re not cops. I mean, do we look like cops?” Dean briskly asked the man in front of him. Inwardly Sam sighed while everyone one around the man looked at each other and nodded.  They were in their fed suits after all. “Well, we’re not cops. We just need to find a friend who’s in it deep.”

            He looked at his shorter brother, Dean ever rarely be anything but direct when questioning leads. This time though, as he had for the past couple of days, seemed a bit desperate.  When you’ve known Dean as long as he has, you learn how to read him.

            Stepping forward a bit to mount some more pressure, “Look, he might have been here the night that guy was killed. Where any of you here then?” Both he and Dean looked over at an older man coming from the back of the group.

            “Maybe…” the man said.

            At this Dean seemed to perk up at the hint of a possible lead. “Oh, okay. Um, he’s got dark hair, blue eyes, a little out of it.”For a second Dean seemed he was about to go on describing Cas, which is odd. Dean’s horrible at describing people.

            “He might have gone by the name Clarence?” he interjected.

            “Clarence…yeah,” the man replied.  After he gave all the info he could the them, he and Dean made their way back to the Impala.

            “Sammy, did you see that stray at the camp?” Dean asked as he got in the car.

            That was code that they were being followed, “yeah, that one with the black coat?” Dean nodded as he started the engine. “I think I saw a store a couple blocks back, I would like some water.”  That same store also had an empty parking lot in a deserted area, great for an ambush.

            “Yeah…I could go for some pie,” Dean smiled.

* * *

 

             When the Earth first formed eons ago, there was a time when the rain did not end for millions of years. That was when the oceans were first filled, how the rivers first began. Rain is needed to continue the life process on this plant, it’s essential.  There are many people and places around the word that pray for rain still. But right now, he wished it would just stop. He was cold already, but cold and wet is just miserable. The sandwich the woman gave him earlier had staved off hunger for now, so he counted that as a blessing. Cold, wet and hungry would be a bit much to bear. Since it is raining, he just huddled in a small alcove which barely offered any cover. There was no point in doing anything else. Everything is just as wet as he is.

It’s been nearly a week  since he had fallen. Other than Hael, no other angel has crossed his path. The tattoo appears to be working in keeping him hidden. Perhaps it is time to call Dean and head the bunker. Should be safe enough now to do so. After this rain ends though…if it ever ends. And if Dean wants him there still.

He hopes Sam is doing well. Ezekiel should help them, he was a good solider, honorable. Like him, Ezekiel was a bit of an anomaly amongst the host. Ezekiel is a fierce warrior, but his is a righteous wrath. He only fought in what he believed in what was right, which is why he followed him when he lead the rebellion. His own resurrection from his second death proved to Ezekiel that he had God’s approval. Ezekiel also had great sympathy for humanity and the Earth, seeing a beauty in them that few others in the host saw.

To be honest with himself, he never did see that beauty. Not until he meet Dean. Up until that time, he was in the same opinion of Uriel. He wasn’t disgusted with them, but rather indifferent. He was a solider, and soldiers only obey. The Winchesters though, especially Dean, made him change that perspective. In time, he grew to adore humanity more than he did with his own family. In their own way, they had a strength that rivalled any of the host. 

The door that the women went into opened again and the same women walked out, distracting him from his thoughts. Looking up, he saw that she was giving him a kind smile. “Why don’t we get you out of the rain?” she asked with kindness.

 

* * *

 

How the hell reapers now are walking among the living, he thought as he put the shovel back into the truck. Slamming it down, he looked over at Sam who was resting against the Impala. His brother had his thinking face on, not paying attention to him as he put Maurice into the ground. “He said that Cas is warded,” Sam stated softly.

“Yeah, what about it?” he responded briskly. Of course Cas would make it hard for them to find him. Damn angel, always making things difficult.

“Well Dean, that means he knows he’s being followed. It makes sense he’s heading away from the bunker.” Sam turned towards him with folded arms, “he’s trying to shake them.” His brother gave him a concerned look, the one that said ‘don’t be upset’.

“What?” he asked trying to brush off Sam’s concern.

“Dean, I know you’re upset that he didn’t head straight to the bunker. And you’re worried about him.”

Damn right he’s worried, but that’s beside the point. For once, Cas is doing the smart thing. “I’m worried ‘bout him, sure. But he’s a big boy, he can handle himself.” Sam nodded, not entirely convinced, of what, he didn’t know, and doesn’t care. “Look, I just want him to be safe then we can try to figure how to fix this mess,” he replied as he walked to the driver side door.

As soon as he slid in, Sam opened his door and took his place. “I know Dean, it’s just that…uh, well…”

Turning the engine over he then turned to face Sam, “spit it out Sam.”

“Last time Cas went missing, you got angry at him. You gave him a cold shoulder and…”

That was true, when Cas came to the bunker the first time, he ignored him. And he had every right to be! Cas beat him within an inch of his life, heals him and then flies away? Yet…when they were at the bar waiting for the cupid, they patched things up.

* * *

 

“ET heading home then?” he asked before sipping his beer.

“I don’t understand that reference, but yes, I would heading home,”Cas replied with no enthusiasm.

He turned his face to study Cas, “not excited?”

Cas looked at the counted for a moment before turning his face. “Excited it not a word I would us. I am…content to know that my family will no longer be able to wreak havoc here on Earth.” He sighed, “though I would prefer to stay here.”

“Because you’re on Heaven’s shit list?” He can imagine Castiel is not exactly the most popular angel right now.

There was a small upturn on Cas’s mouth, an almost smile. “You could say that. But it is something I will endure if it means the Earth remains safe from Heaven.” His eyes though told a different story. Cas was sad.

“You don’t really want to go back do you?” he guessed.

The smile turned to a frown that matched his eyes. “No,” Cas barely breathed out. “Heaven is my home…but…I would rather prefer to stay here w…” Cas cut off and turned quickly from him.

He knew what Cas wanted to say. That he wanted to stay here on Earth…with him. Lifting his arm, he patted Cas on the shoulder. “I wish you could too man.” His hand lingered on the angels shoulder, offering comfort to them both. To be honest, he wouldn’t want Cas to leave either.  Sure, Cas had made of mess of things, but so had he. He can be angry at Cas, but he’ll always forgive him. Other than Sam, Cas is the only other being who accepted and understood him. He has never had an ally, a friend who he shared a close relationship with. In all honesty, Cas is his one best friend.

“Dean, I…I’m sorry that I cannot heal Sam and that I ran with the tablet.”

            Taking his hand back, he lifted the beer back to his lips. Setting the bottle down, he looked at Cas again. “It should have been me.”

            Tilting his head and squinting his eyes, “what do you mean Dean?”

            “I mean that it should be me coughing up blood and having fevers instead of Sam. I should be the one doing the trials.” He took another swig, “I should be the one dying cause I don’t have a happy ending in store for me.” What the hell? Why is he laying this all out right now?

            This time, it was Cas that put his hand on his shoulder. “You are more than worthy to have a happy ending Dean. And this is Sam’s choice to continue the trials. He is his own person and if Sam believes he can do it, he will.”

            “But shit Cas, you saw him. You even said his molecules are not right. How the hell do you recover from that?”

            The grip on his shoulder began tighter but assuring, “Dean, you and Sam have overcome archangels, demons and death itself. Several times.”

            “But at a cost Cas…always at a cost. And I am dead tired of the price.” He looked at Cas straight in the eye , “I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

            “You can’t save everyone my friend,” Cas said quietly with his arm still on him. “I do not wish to close Heaven, but it is the best option I have to fix my mistake. If I had a choice…”

            “But you do have a choice Cas! You don’t have to close Heaven…we can find another way. I…we can find another way.” Maybe he shouldn’t be drinking, it does loosen the tongue. He would’ve blurted out he doesn’t want Cas to go.

            Cas shook his head, “no Dean. This is my burden. I have to save my home, and Earth, from my sins.” Then Cas smiled as he looked into empty space, “but I did enjoy some things here.”

            He gulped, he knew what Cas was talking about. “Uh…remember what I said about that Cas.”

                 

* * *

 

                  “Wow, it’s beautiful,” he remarked as they entered the apartment. The décor was aesthetically pleasing, but what really caught his attention was how dry and warm it was. Living on the streets makes one appreciate a warm place.

                  “If you say so. Uh, just so you know, I don't usually bring home strange men.” The tone in her voice told him that she was being cautious. The word strange though made him think.

                  “Am I strange?” He found humans strange, so it is not surprising they would in turn find him strange. Dean constantly reminded him how human habits and culture go over his head.

                  “No, I mean... men I don't know. But you look like you've been to hell and back.”

                  “Yeah, a few times,” he said without thinking. He realized that she was speaking figuratively and not literally. However, seeing her smile, he believes she thinks he made a joke.

                  “April by the way. April Kelly.”

                  “Um…Castiel.” Again, he chided himself. He should have given her a fake name. He was letting his guard down for some reason. Perhaps he was being won over by her kindness.

                  “One name ?”

                  “Yeah…like God.”

                  “Or Cher?” She had a smile one so he supposed she was being humorous as she grapped a towel from the kitchen. Giving to him, he began to dry himself before she made a slight cough. Pausing he looked  at her. “Uh, not to raise any red flags, but do you know your shirt's soaked in blood?”

                  “Ah…yes. I was injured.”

                  She raised an eyebrow which he recalls Dean doing when he states the obvious. “Well, it’s dirty so take it off. You can sit on the bed there.” Following her command, he removed his shirt and handed it to her which she put in a basket. Then she took the rag he had been using to staunch the wound. ” You call this rag a bandage? You're lucky this wasn't infected. What happened to the guy who attacked you?”

                  “I stabbed him. He exploded.” The feeling of killing yet another of his family tugged at his heart. It was a curious, but sad sensation. He looked up at April, who looked at him with disbelief before smiling again.

                  “Funny. You don't look like the knife-fight type. Or the homeless type, actually.” She turned her back on him and grabbed some supplies from a drawer. He recognized the items as first aid.

                  “Yes. Well... I guess I trusted the wrong person.” The thought of Metatron flamed some part of him to anger.

                  “Bad investment advice?”

                  “No, vanity. I thought I was more important, more effective than I am, that I could... fix everything. Now all I can do is keep running”

                  She just nodded and worked deftly on his wound. “Well, all patched up, but, God, your delts are in knots. You got to relax.” She began to use her hands trying to ease the tension she found in his arms.

                  “Ah, it's all new to me. Hunger. Cold. This feeling, being all alone.” Several thoughts flew across his mind. He liked these sensations that he was feeling. It is similar to that other time, one of his most precious memories that he has that he has never shared. The warmth of her hands sunk in deeper into him, igniting a response he did not know how to control unlike the last time.

                  “You are not alone tonght…” she breathed before leaning in to kiss him. He soft lips touched his own chapped ones and for a moment, he wanted to feel more. This was different, this was more…real. He is cold and lonely, and now she is warming him from both inside and out. As the kiss deepened, he could not help to think this is why humans kiss so much.

 

* * *

 

                  Sex was something viewed in Heaven with mild disgust by the majority of the host. How humans found pleasure in such primal behavior was beyond them. He knew better though. The only other time he had an orgasm it was immense, mind opening to him but the resulting aftermath tinted his memory of it. His angelic abilities allowed him to bury those memories, to enshrines those few seconds where it was pure joy.

                  This time, he had actual intercourse. He can now fully and correctly claim that he is no longer a virgin he thought as he washed himself. After a couple of hours of more lovemaking, which he found to be a curious phrase, he slept wonderfully well. Still smiling when he exited the shower, he found that April had washed his clothes and he began putting on his undergarments. Buttoning his shirt, he entered the living space and began looking through his stuff as a matter of habit.

                  “Oh. I washed your stuff. Find everything okay?” she asked from the kitchen.

                  He frowned, he couldn’t feel his blade. It should have been wrapped securely in one of the jackets he had. “As a matter of fact, something is missing.”

                  “Oh?”

                  “It was with my jacket. It's hard to describe”

                  Suddenly April was against him holding his own blade at his throat. The shock of how quickly she changed paralyzed him. “Oh you mean this?” she asked with a smirk. In this moment, his heart sank and knew that once again he had been duped.  She pushed him toward a chair, “sit and don’t move. I can easily kill you since you’re only human.” Not risking it, he did as commanded. “Good,” she purred as she walked behind him and bound his hands. He didn’t resist but tried to quiet the anger rising in him. What was she and what did she want?

                  Once he was secure, she sauntered over to the kitchen and grabbed a fruit. “It's probably pointless, washing the blood out of your shirt, really. It's the kind of thing the real April would have done. I miss being her. Very sweet. Didn't mind me entering her one bit.”

                  “Why didn't you just attack me right away?” It is what he would have done, what Dean would have done. Dean. He could already hear the elder Winchester chiding him on doing something foolish again.

                  “My briefing said you were dangerous and powerful. And you did arrive armed, so... I needed information, so I had to gain your trust.”

                  Then the sex was just a ruse to gain his trust. “And that required intercourse?” he asked testily.

                  She laughed as she sat herself on his lap, “well, I am allowed some leeway for executive decisions. And I can't say I didn't find you attractive.” She unbuttoned his shirt and ran her free hand over her chest.

                  Ignoring her touch he glared at her, “who hired you? I assumed with Naomi gone, things were in chaos.”

                  April smiled at him sweetly as she got up, “new sheriff in town, Cas. He hired a bunch of us. I got lucky.” She then flicked his blade against his skin that made him hiss with pain. “Enough questions from you. I have several of my own. Let's talk about your buddy Metatron.”

 

* * *

 

                  Dammit, no luck so far in all of the places they had checked. Cas was nowhere to be easily found and that was really worrying him now. It could take days, weeks even to find Cas with their methods. They needed something faster and there was only one thing he could think of. He pulled over onto the side of the road.

                  “What’s up?” Sam asked beside him confused to why they are stopping.

                  “We've been chasing our tails all night. No Cas. "What's up?" I'm fried. I think it's time for plan B.” He replied looking at Sam intently.

                  Sam scrunched up his face, “I’m not following.”

                  God damn it, he and Zeke should have a code word or something. “I'm letting you know,” hoping this tone meant he wanted to talk to Zeke.

                  “O-okay. Um, letting me know what?” Sam was giving him that concerned look like he’d gone off the deep end. He might have too.

                  Putting more emphasis into his voice, “I'm letting you know.”

                  A flash of blue finally ran across Sam’s eyes. “What do you want Dean?”

                  Hearing how flat and emotionless his brothers voice becomes will always unnerve him. “I need your help.”

                  “That is flattering. We've been through this. I cannot be making public appearances.”

                  “Oh, I understand that. I'm not asking you to walk the red carpet, Zeke, okay? I need your help finding Cas”

                  “It cannot be done. He is warded.”

                   Dean rolled his eyes, of course he knew that. “I know that, but maybe you can use your intergalactic, hyperspace, X-ray eyeballs to find someone else. There might be a reaper for rent on his ass. Could you find them?”

                  Zeke seemed to contemplate for a few moments before answering. “I could try,” he replied before closing his eyes.

                  As Zeke concentrated on angel radio, he fiddled with his hands. Cas was obviously in danger, hell, they usually always are. Something was telling him that Cas needed him soon, real soon. Looking out the window, he saw the rain drops accumulate on the window. How has Cas survived the past couple of weeks? How can he survive now just being human?

                  It’s not the first time Cas has been powerless, there was that time he gradually lost his grace back during the Apocalypse. And Cas is naïve, but not stupid. He knows how to get around, how to pass as human enough. Weird sure, but passable. He did the right thing to contact him as soon as possible, and the even smarter thing to throw his pursuer’s off his trail.

                  “Dean,” Zeke called for him in his measured voice. “He has been found in Detroit. A reaper has him and several angels are already underway to him.”

                  “Shit,” he murmured as he turned the ignition key. He knew, just knew that Cas was in trouble! “Tell me where exactly,” he said tensely as he put his foot down on the gas. 

* * *

                 

“ These blades are marvelous, aren't they? They really do a number on humans, too.” April teased as she made a new cut on his chest. The pain stung but he has endured far worse. Even in this frail mortal shell, he will endure.

                  “I told you last night, and I meant it. I was naive. I had no idea what he was planning.”

                  She didn’t seem to believe him since she sunk the blade deeper in making him gasp. “You're lying. It's known you helped Metatron enter Heaven, collaborated with him.”

                  He couldn’t help it, but he gritted his teeth in pain. “'Cause we were going to restore Heaven, bring the factions together,” he retold her. Again, she sliced him to show him she didn’t believe him. “He lied to me,” he pleaded.

                  Yanking his hair back painfully, she closed in again. “You were with him when he unleashed the spell. You know how the angels were cast down!”

                  “I…I didn’t know he was assembling a spell,” he said through before she added another cut to his body. Continuing, “All I know is that I was the final ingredient.”

                  The blade left his skin and he had a chance to breathe. “You,” she asked curiously.

                  “My Grace. That's why I'm human. He took my Grace for the spell,” he confessed for the first time.  For a moment, he recalled the Metatron slicing his neck and feeling his grace being drained. Then he realized that there was a real blade against his throat.

                  “Or you gave it,” April accused.

                  Finding his resolve he steeled his gaze at her, “it may be unwise to kill me. If my Grace were the key to empowering the spell, I may be the key to countering it.” It was a desperate attempt to plead for his life, but it may very well be true.

                  “Are you negotiating with me, Castiel?” she sneered at him before the door crashed in. Immediately looking at who barged in, he was in shock to see Dean there. Dean had come for him he thought before he felt the cold metal bury itself deep in him.

                  As soon as he kicked down the door, which surprised him since it was really thick, he felt a mass of emotions as soon as he saw Cas. Happy that he found him, angry that he had been captured, horrified that he is being tortured. Before either one could get a word in, the woman stabbed Cas in the chest.

                  He has heard screams before. Every kind there is, he’s heard it. Heck, in Hell he was a master at making anyone scream. And none of those chilled him to his bone as hearing Cas let out a strangled cry before going limp.  

                  Of course she used some mojo to throw him and Sam across the room. He landed in the kitchen roughly and he lost the blade he had. As he landed, he heard the women say she was rather popular with the boys and that made him even angrier.  He turned to see Cas still unmoving…oh god, he’s not even breathing! _No no no no_ was all that ran in his head. Then she turned her back to face Sam and he moved fast to grab the angel blade. Getting up, he was able to gut her as soon as she turned around after throwing Sam into the other.

                  Once she slumped at his feet, he dropped the knife and ran over to Cas. He cupped his face and though it was still warm, there was no movement. No breathe, no life. “Cas! C’mon Cas…” he pleaded before slumping to his knees. “No….” he whispered still holding his best friend’s body as it went cold. He wasn’t fast enough, he couldn’t save Cas. He felt tears welling up and he bit his lip to hold them back. Cas can’t just be…he can’t.

                  Hearing a shuffle he looked over at his brother, “Sam…he’s…he’s gone.” There was a wobble in his voice that he couldn’t control. However Sam looked unmoved and he realized that it is Zeke, not Sam in control.

                  “I am sorry Dean,” Zeke said flatly which somehow made him furious before he realized Zeke is an angel.

                  “Heal him!” he demanded.

                  Zeke tilted his head, “I may not have enough power to heal him Dean. Even if I do, it means I will have to stay longer in your brother.”

                  “I don’t care! Bring Cas back!” he shouted without thinking before he calmed down. “Please…just….just bring him back,” he begged.

                  “Very well Dean,” Zeke said as he calmly walked over to Cas and laid his hand on him. Focusing back on Cas, he saw light in his open wounds. It seemed to be an eternity but as the light receded, he could see that Cas was breathing again. So relieved was he that he didn’t even notice Zeke tumble back knocked out. For a moment he was torn between checking on his brother before Cas called for him.

 

* * *

 

                  There was happiness, then pain before everything faded to black. For a second there, he felt free but now he feels the pain again. _I should be dead_ he thought as he tried to think where he was. God, it hurts to breathe and he can’t seem to find the power to open his eyes yet. Then he heard something heavy fall and it jogged his memory. Dean, he remembered Dean. Opening his eyes finally, eh saw the man himself before him. “Dean….” He mumbled through his sore throat.

                  Those green eyes fell upon him and he could see they were wet and frightened at first. But when their eyes meet, he saw relief. “Hey...Cas…I’m here.”

                  Then he heard something to the left of him and saw that it was Sam. Looks like he was coming too as well since he was holding his head. “And Sam,” he added.

                  “Cas, you’re okay?” Sam asked confused still rubbing his head.

                  Which he was too now that he is remembering what happened. That should have been a lethal blow from April. He _should_ be dead, though he is not complaining. Perhaps Dean might know so he turned to him.

                  Dean however had already put on his angry face though there was no anger in it. “Never do that again!” Dean said to him sternly.

                  He had no idea what he did but he wasn’t about to argue with Dean. “All right. But I'm confused. I know she stabbed me, but I'm - well, I don't appear to be dead.” For which he is thankful for yet again.

                  Dean turned to Sam, “well, you got dinged, “ then he turned back to him, “And, uh, you. I made a deal with her. Said she wouldn't get kabobed if she brought you back. She brought you back.”

                  Looking at her corpse, he knew that Dean had ‘kabobed’ her anyway. “You lied.”

                  “I did. I do that,” Dean replied with a smile.

 


	2. Chapter 2

                  After decades on the job, he and Sam know how to efficiently dispose of a body and administer first aid. Cas still had some minor cuts here and there but he was alive. Once April was disposed of they got the hell out of dodge and made good time back to the bunker.

                  Most of the ride Cas spent asleep. Couldn’t hold it against the guy, from what tidbits he told them, he never did find a place to take a good night’s rest on the street. Not to mention he was dead several hours ago. So he let the angel sleep, god knows he needs it. Sam was also conked out beside him, maybe because Zeke used all his mojo to bring back Cas. That was fine. He’s just happy that both Sam and Cas are here, with him safe and sound.

                  When they got to the bunker it was Sam who lead Cas to his room before coming back to the main area. Nuking himself a burrito, he turned to see Sam giving him the ‘I have a question look’. ”You know, you never answered my question. How did you know where to find Cas?”

                  “I went through Maurice's pockets. I found an address and took a shot.” He’s had time to perfect his cover. There was no way Sam could tell he was fibbing.

                  Sam crossed his arms, ”I never saw you go through Maurice's pockets.”

                  “What are you talking about? I don't see half of the nerdy stuff that you do. It doesn't mean that you don't do nerdy stuff.” Sam rolled his eyes at that but didn’t ask anymore. “At least we have Cas here where it is safe. That’s all that matters.”

                  Speaking of the devil, or angel, Cas came in. “I am really enjoying this place. Plentiful food. Good water pressure. Things I never even considered before. There really is a lot to being human, isn't there?”

                  “It’s not all strippers or burritos my friend,” he smiled at Cas. It was kinda weird to see Cas so...human, but at the same time, it’s kinda cool.

                  “Yes, there's more to humanity than survival. You... look for purpose, and you must not be defeated by anger or despair. Or hedonism, for that matter.”

                  Hedonism? That’s something weird for Cas to say. He and Sam exchanged a curious look. “Where does hedonism come into it?“

                  “My time with April was educational,” Cas smiled brightly.

                  “Yeah. I mean, I would think that getting killed is something,” Sam huffed as he took a bit of his burrito.

                  “And having sex,” added Cas. That caught him off guard and he choked on the burrito. Did Cas say sex? Sam shot him a curious look before looking at Cas smiling.

                  “You…you had sex with that April chick?” he asked. Part of him was proud that Cas got some, but another part was…disappointed.

                  “Yeah, that would be where the hedonism comes in,” Sam chimed in giving Cas a goofy smile. Cas seemed proud of his achievement and he and Sam shared a silent ‘awesome’ moment. He just lost his appetite and sighed. This seemed to damper Cas’s as his smile grew smaller.

                  “Did you use protection at least?” he asked needing to end this silence.

                  “I had my angel blade,” Cas replied simply.

                  Rolling his eyes he looked at Sam, “oh, he had an angel blade.” Sam shrugged but he was still smiling the bastard.

                  “In any event, I - I do now see how difficult life can be and how well you two have led it. And I think you'll be great teachers.”

                  “Uh…thanks Cas…I think.” Teachers?  What is this shit?

                  Happy again, Cas smiled. “Are there any more burritro’s?”

                  “Yeah, in the kitchen. Directions are on the wrapper,” Sam supplied. 

                  Watching Cas saunter away, he turned to his brother. “Our little Cas. He gave it up to a reaper. That is-“

                  “Castiel cannot stay here,” Sam, or rather Zeke stated. 

                  “What? Why?”

                  “Castiel cannot stay here.” Zeke repeated. “He will bring the angels down on all of us.”

                  ‘ _I just got him back!_ ’ he wanted to yell back before he remembered who is just down the hall. “No, no, he's got the Enochian tattoo. He's warded,” came out instead.

                  “He was warded when April found him, and she killed him.”

                  “Yes, and you brought him back, and I thank you for that, but this is Cas, okay, who vouched for you when I didn't know you from Jack. The bunker is safe. No one knows where we are or that he’s with us.”

                  Zeke shook his head, “When I was locating Castiel I was able to overhear the plans that Bartholomew have. Bartholomew is massing a force. We cannot stand an incursion. Castiel is in danger, and if he is here, I am in danger.”

                  “C’mon man! He just got back from living on the streets and dying! I can’t...” _I can’t lose him again._ “I mean, uh, Sam is going to wonder what’s up if Cas leaves.”

                  That did not move Zeke who was impassive as ever. “If he stays, I am afraid I will have no choice but to leave.”

                  A cold sweat broke out on his forehead. “If you leave…Sam’s not ready yet. He’ll die.”

                  “I know,” and for once, he detected a hint of sadness in the angels voice. “I would prefer not to but Castiel represents too much of a threat. If he does not go, I shall.”

                  Closing is eyes, he again cursed his never ending bad luck. Always a price to pay. Sam still needs Zeke but Cas needs them too. _Why do I always have to choose?_ Sighing, he looked at Zeke, mind made up. “Fine…I’ll send Cas away but please man, I’m begging you, let him stay the night before…I have to kick him out.”

                  Zeke was silent for a moment, “that is acceptable.”

* * *

 

                  The burrito was delicious. It was warm, chewy and a tad spicy that enhanced the flavor. Much better than the food he had to scavenger off the street. For the first time in a long while, he felt safe and actually happy. Being human certainly had it perks, access to more emotions were certainly one of them.

                  Not that angels don’t feel, they do. Expression of those emotions though is a difficult to express though when one is a wavelength of celestial intent though. And with grace, being that it is a holy, also tempers emotional response. If he had to describe how angels feel, it would have to be detached. Humans though, they are innately tied to their emotions. For them, and now him, it is so easy to express those emotions.

                  Finishing his burrito, he looked over the library. Though he had been here before, the atmosphere is different. For one, Dean isn’t ignoring him and second, he can _feel_ the homeliness of the place. The Winchesters have now certainly claimed their birthright and made it their own.

                  Sensing he was being looked at, he turned his neck to look at the entry way where Dean was standing. “You finished Cas?”

                  “Yes, the food here is epic. I can’t get enough.”

                  Dean chuckled, “well, don’t overdo it or you’ll gain weight. Can’t mojo the pounds off.”

                  “This vessel…uh, my body is physically fit and I know how to maintain it.” This is his body now, this collection of flesh and blood was _him._ The thought never occurred to him before. He is no more than this flesh he stole from James Novak.

                  “Hey now, it’s not bad. I mean…you got to do something fun right?” Dean asked cautiously. He must’ve sensed what he was thinking.

                  “If you’re referring to sex with April, yes, that was fun,” he smiled at the nice memory before another one came to mind. “It was different than that-”

                  “What did I say about that Cas?” Dan asked cutting him off with a glare before he softened his face. “Look, just don’t…don’t bring that up okay? But I get it, it’s fine. Wanted to see if you want to head down to the shooting range? See how well you can shoot.”

                  He should since guns do happen to be the primary weapon now employed by humans. Recalling his shotgun, he knew the basics but also that there was more than just point and shoot. “Yes, that would be a good idea.” Getting up, he followed Dean toward the range.

                  Once in the range, he saw that the brothers have put most of their weapons in this room. “Okay, pick a gun,” Dean said pointing to a table where several were. Walking over, he looked over each of them, feeling the weight and feeling of the weapon. Looking at them all, he picked the one he licked best. “The SIG Sauer P226, good choice. Light, fast reload and decently accurate. You know how to load it?”

                  Observing Dean and Sam as long as he had, he was certain he could. “Yes, I believe so.”

                  “Good,” Dean replied before turning around to grab some bullets. “Load up and let’s see how good you can shoot.”

                  Taking the offered bullets, he loaded them in just fine without any problem  and inserted the clip. Dean handed him some headphones and glasses for safety before they walked to the range. Since Dean wasn’t giving any pointers, he just did what he has seen the brothers do. Finding a stance he was comfortable with, he kept the gun gripped tight and pulled the trigger.

                  The recoil was a bit of a shock at first, more forceful than he recalled. On top of that, he clearly saw that he missed his mark by a wide margin. He was aiming for the heart but instead hit the lower abdomen on the left. If it had been a real person, it could have just grazed their side. Frowning, he turned to Dean who was of course smiling to himself. Squinting at the man, he tried to show his displeasure.

                  Dean just smiled wider, “not too bad I guess, just want to see what you can do. You got a good stance, but you’re gripping to tight and you flinched when it went off. That’s why it was off and you’re going to get a sore arm.” Holding out his hand, “here, give me the gun and I’ll show you.”

                  Giving it to Dean, he paid close attention on how Dean held the weapon and concentrated. “Okay, when you fire, breathe out, keeps you steady. Keep your arms loose for the recoil, but your grip tight. See how I am holding it?” Dean had one hand over the other with his thumbs overlapping each other. Nodding, Dean continued, “great, now in real life nothing stands still but remember that basically, a bullet will travel in a straight line. Now watch, I’m gonna heat the head and heart.”

                  Looking at the target then back to Dean, he nodded. Dean shot off two rounds but he took note on how the hunter remained grounded. His body didn’t move but his arms did move slightly back but remained straight. Taking a breath, he lowered the gun and motioned to him to look at the target. True to his word, there were perfect shots in the paper. “That’s basically all to it, practice makes perfect.”

                  “You make it look easy,” he replied as Dean handed him the gun.

                  “Well, ‘member, my dad had my shooting cans off the fence at seven. I’m a good shot but it takes years of practice.”

                  “I think I may want to stick with shotguns. You don’t have to aim so much,” he said as he raised the gun. Taking into what Dean said, he leveled the weapon to what he wanted to hit.

                  “You still have to aim them Cas, and you’re still holding it wrong. Uh…here,” Dean slid behind him, so close he could feel the other man’s body heat. He froze like because Dean was in his personal space and it felt…weird but good. It only got better when Dean reached round him to corrected his posture. Dean’s hand on his, his warmth and scent around him, made his thoughts wander.

                  “Um, Cas? Hello?” Dean asked returning him to the present.

                  “Uh…sorry. What were you saying?” he asked covering his embarrassment.

                  “That you can shoot now,” Dean looked at him oddly before he noticed how close they were. Upon seeing that he stepped back looking somewhat flushed. “Just…just shoot.”

                  Turning back, he took a moment to concentrate and pulled the trigger as he breather out. This time he let the recoil be absorbed into his arms but kept himself firmly planted. The awkward moment forgotten, they both looked earnestly at the target.  He saw that he had hit the mark. Mostly, it was still a tad off but fatal nonetheless.

                  “Good shot!” Dean congratulated as he slapped him on the back. “Now do it again,” he asked with a wide smile. Smiling back, he took aim once again.

* * *

 

                  For a couple of hours, things didn’t seem so messed up. They spent some of the time shooting some more, then when the evening wore on, they watched a movie. _Star Wars_ was his choice much to Sam’s dismay, who wanted to watch ‘classic’ films like _It’s a Wonderful Life_ or _Casablanca._ Not surprisingly, Cas didn’t care but decided to watch what Dean offered.

                  Sam drifted away to do more research with Kevin which was all good with him. He knew that he can’t hold it against Sam what Zeke is forcing him to do, but part of him did. When the chips are down though, he’ll always choose Sam, even over Cas. Who, by the looks of it, was confused yet again by the movie.

                  After it finished, he turned the TV off before he turned to Cas. “So…what’d you think?”

                  Cas clenched his jaw like he usually does when he thinks hard. “It is…an interesting story, though many aspects of it do not make sense.” He paused before he looked over at Dean, “though Luke reminded me of you in some parts.”

                  “Really? What part?” he asked curious. No one ever compared h him to Luke before, but then, he is awesome.

                  “His heroism, his strength to not seek vengeance but justice, his denial to fall into despair. He did what was right.” They sat in silence as he digested what Cas said. He’s never really thought of himself as an actual hero. He’s just a hunter doing the family business. Cas continued after a while, “though personality wise, you would be like Han Solo.”

                  “Does that make Sam Chewie then?” he asked with a smirk?

                  “Sam…is certainly tall enough.” Cas mused.

                  Laughing, “well, he certainly has enough hair too!” Good it felt good to laugh.

                  “I think I will go to bed now Dean, I believe I am tired,” he yawned to emphasize that. “May I ask what the plan is for tomorrow?”

                  _Shit._ He wanted to push this off later, like in the morning to at least give Cas a good night’s rest.  The past several hours have been good, real good and he didn’t want this illusion to end. All good things have to come to an end though. “Yeah…about that Cas. I…need to talk to you about that.”

                  Seeing his frown, Cas gave him a concerned worried look. “What about Dean?”

                  Looking at his friend then away, he felt a tightness in his chest and sick feeling in his stomach. Cas was giving him that caring look that only made him look innocent puppy dog. _I can’t…no, I have to look him in the eye._ Forcing his eye to meet the blue, he licked his lips. “You can’t….you can’t stay here Cas.”

                  Cas blinked at him oddly, like he didn’t believe him. A silence had fallen so heavy between them it was tangible. He could hear his own heart beat as he watched Cas gulp before a pained expression came upon his face. “You…don’t want me here?” Cas asked shakily and damn, it broke him to hear that he had hurt his best friend.

                  Keeping his gaze locked on the floor, he continued. “It’s dangerous to keep you here,” he lied. “I…I know you’re warded but there’s still a risk. We…I can’t risk it.”

                  He risked looking at Cas and he saw that he had wounded Cas. There was literal fear and sadness emanating from the man. Yet, as much as he was pained, he kept himself composed. “I…I understand. I’ll go now if you want.”

                  “What?!?! No way Cas. You can stay the night at least,” he offered.

                  Whatever pain Cas had been feeling, he immediately his it under quiet anger. “If I am a risk Dean, then it would only be prudent to leave as soon as possible.” The angels face was set, stern and yet, still sad.

                  Shaking his head, “trust me on this Cas, I don’t want you to go. But I ain’t just gonna kick you out in the cold man. You can stay here for the night and tomorrow…tomorrow I’ll take you.”

                  “Where? I do not where to go,” Cas stated downcast again.

                  “I…uh, I haven’t thought about that. I’d send you to Garth but he’s MIA. Suppose you can stay at the cabin in Montana.” _It only needs to be a little while until Zeke is gone,_ he wanted to add. Admitting that though would only raise questions though.

                  “Is that why you wanted to make sure I could use a gun Dean?” He let his silence answer for him. “I see…well, I’m going to go to bed while I can.” Cas stood up and walked away quickly. The dark cloud stayed though, making Dean regret this even more.

* * *

 

                  The bed was hardly comfortable, but it didn’t matter. He was only going to be here tonight and tomorrow? Who knows where he’ll be. It wasn’t surprising that Dean wanted him gone from the bunker. He does have a habit of bringing ruin to those close to him. In the same position, he would have made the same choice.

                  Still, it didn’t ease the hurt he felt. Part of him was relieved that the brothers had opened their home to him. He felt safe, happy even in this short time he was here. Now he’s being kicked out and there was no one to blame but him and his hopes. The newfound emotions he had kept trying to overwhelm him with anger, despair and penance. He wanted to shout that no, he won’t go while at the same time he wanted be far away from here.

                  Since sleep was not coming easily, he tried to think on what he should do. Dean is right, he is a target and being human has made him vulnerable. While he can perhaps hold his own against his family, there are other things out there, demons and leviathans for instance, that would love to have his head too. And what can he do to help fix the problems he had created? So he may as well lie low for the moment and loathe as he was to admit it, he’ll have to do what Metatron asked him to do.

                  What life could he possible lead though? He has no skills other than being a warrior of God. In fact, he had no means of identification other than the fake badge Dean gave him long ago. Useful if he wanted to be a hunter, which Dean said he sucked at, but not in trying to live a life. How was he to earn money for shelter and food?

                  The cabin in Montana is a good option, but it is known to the angels so its security is compromised. Bobby’s house is no more nor does he have any allies willing to offer him shelter. In fact, other than the Winchesters, what allies does he have? None, since he had at one time killed or betrayed them all.

                  There was a soft knock on the door before it opened softly. Glancing at the clock first, he saw that he had not slept at all and it was now early morning. Looking at the door, Dean poked his head in, “you awake Cas?”

                  For a moment, he thought he should pretend to be asleep if only to delay leaving, but that would be childish. “Yes.”

                  With that Dean came in quietly, “listen…I don’t like this either buddy. It’s…once we got everything figured out, or get your grace back…it’ll be okay. But for now, we gotta go if we’re gonna catch that bus.”

                  Pushing himself up, “bus?” he asked. “Where to?”

                  “Up to Idaho, not far from the cabin.”

                  “The cabin is known to the angels Dean. It isn’t safe.”

                  In the weak light, he saw Dean look upset but not at him. “Shit, you’re right. Well…I guess we can find another place, maybe not far from here-”

                  “No Dean, I’ll take that bus and see where I’ll go from there. It’s best that there is…distance between us. I can find my own way.” He put the blankets aside, “I’ve been thinking about laying low, maybe getting a job to earn money.”

                  “I got cash, and a phone…give you a card,” Dean said as he sat on the bed next to him. “I also asked Charlie to make up some paperwork for you. She emailed it to me right now.” He sat with his back to him, like he was ashamed. “I’m sorry Cas…”

                  “Dean, I understand and thank you. I’m not upset, but you’re right. I am a fairly large target and I know I am being hunted. It is prudent I depart.” Scooting up on the bed to sit beside Dean, he put his hand on his shoulder. “Every time I try to fix something, I only make it worse with my impulsiveness. For now, not being pro-active is a wise strategy.”

                  Dean didn’t move, neither one of them did for a while. “Okay…but you let me know where you’re going?” Moving to get up, he also stood up to face Dean. “C’mon, we roll in fifteen.”

                  The ride was silent to the bus depot. Glancing over to Cas every so often, he found the man just staring out the window.  Cas had always been a hard person to read without looking at his eyes. Right now though, he felt the sadness and the disappointment rolling off his friend. And Cas had every right, every right to be upset, to be sad and disappointed.

                  No word was spoken between the two even as he pulled up to the empty bus stop. It was beside a small park on the outskirts of the town. No one else was there but then, this was a mostly empty corner of America. They still had a little bit of time before the bus did come, for which he cursed and was thankful for. As soon as he killed the engine, he looked over at Cas. “So…uh, you got everything you need?”

                  With no scenery to distract him, Cas turned to face him. “Yes,” he replied flatly while his eyes clearly said otherwise.

                  “You’re gonna call me wherever you get to…wherever you end up right?”

                  A small measured nod was Cas’s response before he lifted his head peering beyond Dean. “I think the bus is coming.”

                  Looking himself, he saw the bus was coming down the road. Should be here in less than five minutes. “Yeah…” he mouthed before opening the door. Behind him he heard Cas open the door and softly close it before Cas walked in front of him.

                  They both looked at the ground idly for a few seconds before he moved forward to embrace his friend one last time. Why did he move to hug Cas good-bye he wondered as he felt Cas accept the gesture. “Don’t do anything stupid ya hear me okay? Any trouble, you run and you call me.”

                  Clearly taken surprise by being embraced by Dean, Cas was slow to pat him on the back before hugging him tighter. “Yes Dean,” he whispered near his ear, so close to is he felt the words.

                  And as soon as it had started, Cas broke the hug before he turned around to head to the now waiting bus. The loss of the warmth brought the chill back in seconds but it was nothing compared to seeing Cas take those steps. A part of him wished that Cas could fly away because actually _watching_ him go is more painful than just suddenly disappearing.  He kept on looking as Cas shuffled to a seat beside a window and looked at him. Their eyes locked onto each other even as the bus began to speed away.

* * *

 

                 

 

Stepping on the bus, there was one old lady in the back reading a book and a teenager snoring at the front. After giving his ticket to the driver, he choose a seat in the middle beside a window. Looking out, he saw Dean still standing beside his beloved car with his jaw clenched tight. They held each other’s gaze even as he felt the gears shift and the bus began to drive away. Before Dean disappeared from view, he clearly saw the hinter kick the ground and run his hand over his face.

                  This thoroughly confused him even further. Dean’s body language told him that he didn’t want to send him away. The embrace they shared was symbolic of that. Dean never initiates contact like that unless he was extremely happy or sad and he’s trying to cover it up. Last time Dean held him like that was in Purgatory when they found each other.

 

                  His mind wasn’t in the right place. It hadn’t been since he took on all those dark souls from Purgatory. Perhaps even before then. One thing was crystal clear though, a command that rose above the madness. Protect Dean Winchester. This one command had guided him since he decided to rebel for Dean. Ostensibly it was to protect humanity, which while true, to him humanity was symbolized by Dean. So where he gave up faith in his father, he gave it instead to Dean.

                  So even though the phantom voices cried out for him to do a million different things, his own voice rose above them when it came to Dean. Once Dick had been killed and they had been transported to Purgatory, he knew what he needed to do. He needed to leave Dean so he can draw attention away from him. And to also protect Dean of him. It was a choice he didn’t want to make. If he had a choice, he would have stayed beside his friend. Doing so would only bring down the leviathans and other monsters on them though. An angel in a land of monsters gets noticed more than a human, so he left.

                  In his madden state he felt a vast array of emotions but none more keenly than that of penance. He knew that this madness would subside (hopefully) in time but he would still have all the guilt of what he had done forever. That cannot be buried or forgotten. No, he deserved to remain here in this godforsaken land, doing the only good he could. And that was to protect his friend.

                  Dean didn’t make it any easier though. As his madness cleared, he also heard the prayers that Dean sent to him every day . _‘Castiel, the douchbag angel who left my ass in the middle of some freaky monsters with glowy red eyes, I hope you can hear me.’_  Dean sounded tense, angry even before his tone changed. _‘I hope you’re okay and can still hear me Cas. I’m still here and I’m coming to find you.’_  To hear the conviction in Dean’s voice both calmed and worried him. Even after all he had done, Dean still wanted to help him. He also knew that Dean would not give up looking for him.

                  Days turned into weeks and weeks into months as he continued to run from Dean. While Dean fought monsters to find his location, he fought them to keep them away from Dean. Yes, many escaped his vigilance, but at the least he was able to keep the leviathans away from his friend. And every night, he heard Dean. _‘Hey Cas, I don’t care that you’re crazy or anything. We’ll find a way to fix you and get the hell out of dodge.’ ‘Sup buddy, I got a pretty sweet weapon.’ ‘ Castiel, angel of Thursdays and assbutt, this place is weird. I’m never hungry or thirsty but I am sure as hell tired. Getting a good workout though.’_ And every night, at the end of every prayer Dean added _‘we’ll get through this. I’m not leaving you. I need you Cas.’_  

                  It wasn’t until Dean prayed to him about meeting a vampire that knew of a way out did he consider stop running. By this point he believed he had weathered the madness he inflicted on Sam and was just now wanting to serve his penance. If there was a way out this place for Dean though, he had to do what he could to make sure Dean gets out. So he waited for Dean to come to him since his wings had since been damaged. Part of him was happy that he was actually going to see Dean, but he was going to brace himself because he’ll have to lose him again for his penance.

                  So there he sat beside a clear stream in this dreary world waiting for the Righteous Man. He looked at his reflection and say how dirty he had become, how his beard had actually grown. Reaching over, he took some water to make himself somewhat presentable. That’s when he heard the bushes rustle and he turned his head. Out stepped Dean looking tired and dirty with another person behind him.

                  As soon as Dean saw him though, a rare smile broke out over his face. “Cas!”

                  Standing he looked at the hunter, “Dean.”

                  Unexpectedly Dean sauntered over with his smile and hugged him tight. “Cas,” he breathed onto his neck. For a moment, Dean lingered on him and he felt the relief flow through the man. Dean was genuinely happy to have found him. Slowly, Dean removed himself though he brushed his hand softly against his check. A brief happy memory of a Dean touching him like that long ago flashed through his mind. “Damn, it's good to see you. Nice peach fuzz,” Dean said quietly. By the look of his eye, the same memory came to him.

                  Fixated on Dean, he just replied a simple thank you. Then Dean pointed to the man on the hat. “You should meet somebody. This is Benny. Benny, this is Cas.” Benny  tipped his hat and greeted him. As a vampire he is surprised he had survived so long on the company of Dean. He sensed that Benny was good, even if he is a monster.

                  “How did you find me?” he asked. He knew several creatures could sense him, but for Dean as a human to track him over the past couple of weeks is a feat.

                  Dean tensed up, “the bloody way. You feeling okay?”

                  Pointing at his head, “you mean am I still...” crazy was the unspoken word. Knowing Dean, he would appreciate the need to be direct.

                  “Yeah, if you want to be on the nose about it, sure.” Oddly, Dean didn’t seem to want to be direct about this topic. In fact, it made his seem nervous to even ask.

                  “No. I'm perfectly sane. But, then, 94% of psychotics think they're perfectly sane, so I guess we'd have to ask ourselves, "what is sane?" He had given some thought about it on his own. Since angels are fundamentally different from humans though, his mind was overcome by the insanity. Now it’s tucked away where it cannot bother him.

                  “That's a good question,” Dean answered though his face said he didn’t care to think more about it.

                  Benny stepped forward, “why'd you bail on Dean?” The tone in his voice was accusatory, which was justifiable.

                  “Dude,” Dean said surprised by the boldness of the vampire.

                  Turning to the human, “the way I hear it, you two hit monster land, and hot wings here took off. I figure he owes you some backstory.”

                  Dean shook his head, “look, we were surrounded, okay? Some freak jumped Cas. Obviously, he kicked its ass, right?”

                  There was so much hope in Dean’s voice that he felt nearly guilty to tell him the truth. But Dean deserved the truth. “No,” he replied.

                  Dean’s face became set and he could see the anger behind his eyes. “What?” he said with a hard edge.

                  “I ran away,” he told honestly.

                  “You ran away,” Dean parroted back with an edge.

                  “I had to.”

                  “That's your excuse for leaving me with those gorilla-wolves?” There was red anger in his voice but also a note of…sadness?

                  “Dean-“ he started before he got cut off.

                  “You bailed out and, what, went camping? I prayed to you, Cas, every night.” Dean was, as Sam would say, pissed but he could clearly hear the hurt in the man’s voice. He had heard every one of them. Dean would never know, but it did pain him also to ignore them as well.

                  “I know.” 

                  “You know and you didn't... What the hell's wrong with you!?!”

                  “ I am an angel in a land of abominations.” Though he felt like an abomination as well. “There have been things hunting me from the moment we arrived.”

                  That didn’t seem to matter to Dean. “Join the club!” he shouted back.

                  “These are not just monsters, Dean. They're Leviathan. I have a price on my head, and I've been trying to stay one step ahead of them, to…to keep them away from you.” He looked down at the ground before looking back at Dean. “That's why I ran. Just leave me, please.”  He tried to convey with his eyes that Dean should let him go.

                  “Sounds like a plan. Let's roll,” Benny casually said. From his stance he could tell that the vampire isn’t thrilled with his answer either.

                  Dean, however , wasn’t going to give up so easily. He stepped closer to him again holding out his arms. “Hold on, hold on. Cas, we're getting out of here. We're going home.”

                  “Dean, I can't.” Or rather, he wouldn’t.

                  You can. Benny, tell him.

                  Benny rolled his eyes but seeing that Dean wasn’t budging, he told him. “Purgatory has an escape hatch, but I got no idea if it's angel-friendly.”

                  “We'll figure it out.” Dean said to him earnestly. “ Cas, buddy…I need you.”

                  The words ‘I need you’ echoed ‘ echoed in his mind. There was such sincerity to them that he felt compelled to follow the man. Still, even if journeyed with them, he would ebeexposing them to more danger. “Dean...” he calmly began before Dean cut him off again. 

                  “And if Leviathan want to take a shot at us, let ‘em. We ganked those bitches once before. We can do it again.”

                  “ It's too dangerous.”

                  Dean wasn’t buying it. “Let me bottom-line it for you. I'm not leaving here without you. Understand?”

                  They both knew Dean would. This one man stood down the most powerful beings on the planet. There was nothing that could change his mind was it was done. Even if he eluded the pair, Dean would just go looking for him again. He cannot let Dean squander a chance to return to Earth though. There was only one option at this point then. “I understand.”

 

* * *

 

                  Dean kicked the dirt since it was the only thing that he could release his anger on. Dammit, he didn’t want to see Cas go and he cursed Zeke for making him do this. Cas was homeless, living under bridges and digging through the trash bins to eat before. Hell, the angel, man…whatever, died just the day before!  What kind of an asshole is he if he just lets his best friend go back to a life like that? A shitty one that’s what.

                  This is a different from the other time Cas had to leave him. It wasn’t Cas choice this time. The one time that Cas actually want to stay with him and he wanted Cas to stay was the one time he had to say no. That devastated look when he told him that he had to go and those sad eyes just now will haunt him. But then, he’s done so many awful things, it’s just another regret to add to an already long list.

                  When he got back the bunker, he knew there was a dark cloud over him. Kevin saw him from the library but took one look and knew better to say anything to him right now. Sam on the other hand, once they bumped in the kitchen, was a different story. It’s like it’s wired into his brother to be especially nosy when he’s in a funk. Sighing, he may get ready for the inevitable and grabbed a beer from the fridge. Sitting down, he waited for Sam to start grilling him.

                  “So…where’s Cas? I wanted to show him some stuff.” Sam asked with his arms crossed as he leaned on the doorway.

                  “Cas had to go Sam. Wasn’t safe here. I just dropped him off at the bus stop.” He took a drink from his beer waiting for Sam’s response. At least on the drive back he had concocted a cover story. And he was a born liar, so he knew he could fool Sam.

                  Uncrossing his arms Sam gave him a concerned look, “what do you mean that he had to go? And not safe here? Dean, this is the safest place for him!” Coming over, Sam sat down across from him. Taking a breath, Sam looked at him carefully, “how could you let him go Dean? You were the one that wanted to bring him back here so badly.”

                  He knew Sam was trying to determine the truth here, and if it were anyone else, they might have withered under Sam’s calm gaze. It’s the one Sam uses to show that he’s empathetic, understanding and concerned about you. And knowing Sam, it’s sincere. “Cas…he didn’t want to draw any more attention to us, didn’t want to endanger us man.”

                  “But he’s warded, like nothing could find him right?”

                  “Yeah, tell that to that chick that almost killed him.” Did kill him in fact.

                  Sam brushed his hair aside, a sign that he acknowledged that Dean was right on that one, but still pushed on. “Okay, but that was dumb luck that she ran into him right? Maurice said that he couldn’t find him. And if he stayed here, then no one would find him. No one knows where this place is.”

                  “Yeah, I tried to tell him that,” he lied. “I told him that this is the _safest_ place from the _angels.”_ He hoped Zeke was listening, happy that he did what was asked.

                  “But you took him to the bus stop anyway?” Sam asked with a hint of accusation.

                  “Or what? Let him walk fifty miles to town? Out in the wide open country Sam? You know how he is Sam, once Cas is set on what he thinks is right, he’s going to do that.”

                  “I don’t know Dean, he seemed pretty happy to be here with y…us.” Dean arched his eyebrow slightly at that slip up. Sam went on though, “I just don’t understand why he would change his mind so quickly. Here he’s safe, has a bed, food and help. What’s he gonna do out there? Find anoher bridge to sleep under?”

                  That felt like a low blow to him though he knew Sam didn’t mean it as such. “Look Sammy, **_I_** didn’t want him to go any more than you do. But hey, it wasn’t my idea.” That much is true he thought as he took a drink. “But look, I didn’t send him out in the cold with nothing. He has a gun, money and he knows my number. If trouble comes looking for him, he’ll run and call us alright?”

                  “But didn’t you wait until I was up? I’m sure that both of us could have convinced him to stay.” Sam asked gently, to which he really meant _why didn’t you try harder?_ To that he looked down wondering the same thing. Part of him just wanted to say that it was to save his life, but if he does, Zeke will leave and Sam will die.

                  So he bit his lip and took another drink, “you don’t know how bad I wanted him to stay. Do you think I want him out there by himself with no mojo or safe place while he’s being hunted? You think I want him to dig in dumpsters and sleep in alleys that smell like piss?” Cas’s sad eyes came into focus in his mind for a second and, dammit, he felt like shit. He looked away from Sam not able to keep a straight face at that moment.

                  Sam was silent digesting what he said for a while before reaching over to touch him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry Dean. I know you really wanted him here.” Letting go, Sam stood up, “I guess the sooner we fix this miss, Cas can come back then right?” Sam was trying to perk him up, but it just agitated him.

                  “I guess,” he replied glumly as he emptied the bottle.

 

* * *

 

                  He rode the bus to the end of its run, which was a small town in Idaho. Being mid-afternoon, he walked around the town thinking about what to do next. On the bus he didn’t feel like thinking about anything or making any plans. It occurred to him then he was what humans would call being depressed. It is an accurate description of how he feels at the moment, in addition to self-loathing.

                  Now that he was out of the bus he had to decide what to do, and he was hesitant to decide anything. In a sense, he wanted to be lifted of the burden of choice, but he chose free will and now he had to live with that forever. Sighing, he opened his wallet to see what he had to work with.

                  Dean had given him all the cash in his own wallet and it amounted to a little over than two hundred dollars. He is not ignorant of the value of money, and how little of it the Winchesters actually have. Again, he feels both regret and sadness that he has to rely on them when they have so little to spare. Sighing, he looked over at the cheap hotel down the road from him. Even at its low cost, the money would be depleted before the week ended. And he still needs to eat and get other supplies.

                  Hitchhiking to a larger city might be more advantageous, at least in finding shelter and food. Maybe a better chance of finding a job, even if it pays little. At the same time though, a larger place will expose him and increase his risk of being seen. Walking still, he looked up at the Gas-N-Sip that he has seen all over the country when he rides with the Winchesters and spied a help wanted sign.

                  Taking it as a sign, he steeled himself and walked into the small store. Behind the counter was a woman with blond hair looking bored at some papers before she heard him. Upon seeing him she straightened her posture and smiled brightly at him. “Welcome to Gas-N-Sip, how can I help you?” she asked cheerfully.

                  “You have a help wanted sign in the window. I can help,” he simply replied.

                  Her smile remained the same as she looked him over obviously seeing if he looked trustworthy. Given that her smile widened just a little bit when their eyes meet could only mean he passed that test. “Yes, we’re hiring right now. Do have any experience?”

                  “No.”

                  “Alright, that’s fine. It’s not like you need a degree or anything to work here. What’s your name?”

                  “Steve,” he replied. He had skimmed over the papers that Dean gave to him, seeing that was his new name. Made sense since Castiel is hardly a common name.

                  She nodded, “okay Steve, and how soon can you start?”

                  “I can start now if you like.”

                  At that she laughed a little, “that’s great hun. You like being a busy bee then?”

                  “Bees are a very industrious species,” he stated flatly to which the woman laughed again.

                  “That they are, you’re funny. I like that.” She held out her hand, “name’s Nora and I’m the manager.” Taking her hand, he shook it. Her hand was soft to touch but she was strong on her grip.  Letting go, she continued, “I can use someone right away actually. If you want, you can start now. We can do all that paperwork later.”

            He nodded, “yes, I can start now. What would you like me to do?” At that, Nora led him to the back while going over the aspects of his new job.


	3. Chapter 3

Witches. He hates them. But the _actual_ Wicked Witch from freakin’ Oz? Oh, he really really hates her. Not only did he get mind whammied by her, but Charlie had to kick him in the nads because of that. They still hurt, but hey, at least the bitch got ganked. Now they were just having a chill period to just regroup after the days events.

                  At least all the excitement had him distracted from thinking about…well, how everything sucks at the moment. Cas has been gone almost a week and he just extended Zeke’s stay in his brother for god knows how long plus now Charlie is going to go the merry old land of Oz. At least Sam’s still clueless and Cas has a job to keep him busy. So here he is, sitting at the library nursing a beer watching something on the computer that he has no idea is about while everyone is doing their own thing. It wasn’t until Charlie closed the laptop that he snapped out of his reverie.

                  “So….” Charlie whispered loudly smiled at him while she sat next to him.

                  “So? So what?” he asked, irked that she somehow snuck up on him.

                  “I know a secret,” she winked as she pulled out a memory stick and slid it to him. “You owe me big time,” she said sweetly that only made him worried.

                  “What is this Charlie?”

                  “So you know how all the Supernatural books are all online now and have been released more or less by Becky?”

                  Running his face down his face, “yeah, thanks for reminding me.”

                  “No problem. And you know how I can be really nosy right?” He nodded wondering where this was going. “So, after I caught up with everything that was published I wanted to see if there was anymore. You know, because there might be something really important that can help with, whatever. So I hacked into Beckys computer to see if there was any more.” She looked at him and blushed.

                  “Okay…and?” He asked scared to know more but curious enough to bite.

                  “You and Cas,” she smiled weakly.

                  “What about me and Cas?”

                  “You and Cas…after Swan Song.”

                  “Swan Song? What the hell is that?”

                  “Oh, that’s right, you don’t read them. Ah, after Sam jumped into the pit.”

                  His heart froze but he decided to play it cool. “What about it? Cas healed me, we drove off, he went to Heaven and I went to Lisa.”

                  Charlie backed away just slightly, “right…but between the healing and the driving off part there was that interlude at the bar…”

                  “STOP!” he nearly shouted before burying his face in his hands. “Oh god, please don’t tell me that got published…”

                  Charlie gasped, “oh my god…I thought it was Becky being all freaky…but…that…”

                  He looked at her through his hands, still covering his face he was sure was flushed. “Please…please tell me that’s not on the internet.” If it was, hell just jump off a cliff now. Dammit, if he finds Chuck or Becky again he is going to give them…

                  “No….it’s not.” Charlie breathed out quickly. “I…” she smiled at him before taking his hand, “its okay Dean. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.  Actually, it was really sweet. And I won’t tell anyone.” She looked down at the memory stick, “ and no one else will either. I copied it all on there and erased everything on her computer.”

                  Taking a deep breath he looked at the would be sister he never wanted but somehow needed. “You wiped her computer?”

                  “Dude, do you know many Wincest stories she writes? And then tricking Sam into almost marrying her? It’s the least I can do.” She replied as she squeezed his hand. “It’s all there, Edlunds notes and rough drafts, every published and unpublished book.”

                  “Charlie…I don’t know…why?”

                  Taking her hand back she shrugged. “I had to kick you in the family jewels, and I felt really bad about that. I was going to hang onto this as ransom, but thought better of it. Besides, I’m not going to risk losing this in Oz.” She leaned in again slightly, “and I think I know why you’ve been mopey. You miss him”

                  He gave he an indignant look, “I’ve not been mopey!”

                  “Sam says you’ve been, and Sam knows you better than anyone else Dean. I thought it was because it was this ‘profound bond’ thing I read, but I know there’s more to it than that.” She leaned back, “in fact, I know it’s more than _just_ that,” she said pointing at the memory stick. “You know Becky got updates? Chuck kept writing, from where, I have no idea because even I can’t track him, but she did. And I read them.”

                  “And?” he gruffed out folding his arms. This sucks. His life is crappy enough as it was without it being published for someone else’s pleasure.

                  Charlie looked at him skeptically before smiling, “I think you should read some of them. That’s all. I know how much you hate stuff like this. So that’s that. Now, if you excuse me, I have a yellow brick road to get ready for.”

 

* * *

 

                  The first two nights in town he spent at the motel a couple blocks over. After Nora showed him what he would do and he had worked several hours, they went over the paperwork. Or rather, the lack of paperwork. Even though Dean had given him some stuff, it was woefully inadequate for legal employment. Yet Nora was kind enough to hire him anyway and pay him ‘under the table’ as she handed him the keys. He thought it would be suspicious if he didn’t have a place to go, so he walked to the motel to give the illusion he had a place to stay.

                  However his money wouldn’t last so after the second night, so we bought a cheap sleeping bag. When Nora and the other employees weren’t looking, he stashed it in the back storage room. After sleeping in alleys, shelters and under bridges this backroom was dry, clean and safe. As long as he kept this secret, no one should suspect that he was still homeless.

                  That topic of his homeless state was one that he tried not to think about. When he arrived in town, he sent a message to Dean as soon as he was finished with work. _Stopped in Idaho Falls. Found work at the Gas-N-Sip._ He waited for a reply but he never got one. That only reinforced his notion that maybe Dean just wanted him gone.

                  The work he does is mundane and hardly difficult. Keeping the small store clean and stocked is simple but always constant. Even so, his mind wanders and the past couple of days he found his mind wanders quite a bit. At first it was imagining how to build a human life from these humble beginnings, which become depressed when he began to find out how much things cost. Even an inexpensive studio apartment would require a significant sum.  On his meager wage, he couldn’t afford many things, such as new clothes or dining out if he wanted to get the place.

                  Yet it didn’t matter where his line of thought began. It always came to the realization that he was basically useless and unwanted. Useless in that he could barely feed and shelter himself, let alone fix his mistakes. Unwanted because the only people who could help him couldn’t because he is dangerous. All of this on top of his guilt and self-loathing that in effect, he made himself useless. It’s cycle his mind couldn’t escape so he just kept on doing what he was doing, which basically is nothing.

                  Still, even being depressed, there were some new things he did like. He found that many people found him nice, if quiet. Flirtations came from many patrons who came in and out of the store, but he never pursued them. The disaster with April was still recent and he had no inclination to let down his guard again.

                  Nora though, he was certain was sending him ‘signals’ of her interest in him. She is the only person to do more than chat with him, she actually wanted to know him more than just a co-worker. Granted, most of their conversations steered toward her child but on more than one occasion, she confided in him that she would like to meet a nice man like him. Looking at her, he saw that she is a beautiful women, both in body and spirit. He doubted that a reaper or angel would set up such an elaborate ruse to capture him. Especially since Nora had many chances to capture him if she were an enemy. Slowly, he began to trust her.

                  Over the course of a couple weeks he fell into a routine. He would wake up well before the store opened, head to the local truck stop to clean himself, eat, work, then pretend to head off back ‘home’ until after the store closed so he can sleep. On the days he gets off early in the day, he goes to the library, to do whatever research he can.

                  Which is how he noticed the peculiar disappearances near him. The more he dug into the story, the more he felt that this was a case for Sam and Dean. Heading out of the library, he took out his phone and was about to call Dean before he looked at the time. His shift started sooner than he thought. Putting the phone back in his pocket, he headed back to the Gas-N-Sip forgetting about the case.

                  Already completing all his duties for the morning, he took his coffee break. This time, there were two men loitering by the machine and he observed them, imitating their gestures. That was one perk of this job, he had direct contact with humans and learned from them by observation.

                  “Morning, Steve” Bill greeted him from behind.

                  Turning quickly around he raised his hand like the two men had to give Bill a ‘high five’. “Bill. High….” he replied raising his hand but bill just kept on walking past him. Lowering his hand, he turned his head again when he heard the door beep again.

                  It was Nora looking flustered, “sorry I'm late. I had to … drop the baby off at daycare then I hit every red light on the way here.” She looked around after she had straightened her blouse. “But guess I shouldn't have worried. Place looks great. Coffee urns?”

                  “Uh, full.”

                  “Dairy case?”

                  “Stocked.”

                  “Okay, Steve, last question,” she said before him making him apprehensive. He is certain everything is where it should be. “Where have you been all my life?” she asked playfully. It’s a unexpected question and he didn’t know how to answer. Seeing his confusion, she continued. “ You're not like the other sales associates. There's... something different about you.”  
                  Alarmed, he shook his head slightly, “I can assure you, there's – there's not.”

                  Nora smiled, “I know these things. You're ... hmm … special.” She patted his shoulder before she went to the back to the counter. Again, he wasn’t sure how to interpret if this was just a friendly gesture or another flirtation. Sighing, he looked at the papers where Bill dropped them. Seeing the story again about the disappearances, he remembered that he needed to call the Winchesters. He pulled out his phone when he heard the slushie machine starting to make a noise it wasn’t supposed to. Shaking his head, he called Dean.

 

* * *

 

                  When Sam said research, his spirits dropped. It’s not like he doesn’t like doing it, it’s just…tedious. He’s a man of action, and he likes things fast and simple. Not this complicated doodle stuff that Sam and Keven talked in nerd. Oh no, Sam and Kevin could knock themselves reading these dusty books. Yeah, sure, he’ll help out but if there was something he can do _other_ than research, he’ll do it.

                  Which is why he answered the phone not even looking at the screen who it was. “There is a god,” he muttered to taunt Sam who gave him his classic bitch face.  A phone call would offer and escape from reading scribbles. “Hello?” he smirked.

                  “I may have a case for you. Four missing in Rexford Idaho,’” replied a familiar gravelly voice. Had he known it was Cas, he might have let it go to voicemail. Hearing from the man made him think about how he had to kick him out all over again. “Presumed dead, but no bodies have been released to loved ones. And, there were reports of a strange substance at the scenes,” Cas went on.

                  Cas was on the phone now, so may as well see what’s up and if had had a case, even better. “Oh, well, hello to you too, Cas. How are you?”

                  He heard some rustling in the back and something wet, “I…am busy.”

                  Shaking his head, it’s so like to Cas to be direct in the fewest amount to words. “All right. So how do you want to do this? You want to meet up at the latest scene? You want me to pick you up? What?”

                  That’s when he heard something drop onto the floor over the phone. It sounded slushy and he heard Cas sigh. “Um … I've got my hands full over here. I just – um...”

                  There was a silence from Cas since it sounded he was shuffling things around now. “Uh Cas? Hello?”

                  “I thought you would want to know about the case.” Cas breathed out somewhat irritated.

                  “Hey, you sure everything's,” he heard a click over the line, “okay.” Putting the phone back in his pocket, he headed to his room to grab his overnight bag. As soon as he was out of his room, Sam was right there hot on his heels.

                  “So you’re going to check this out?”

                  “Yeah, I am” he replied as he went down the hallway. “I’m going up to Idaho.”

                  “And Cas?”

                  “What about Cas?”

                  They turned into the computer room, “So, he said nothing about where he is or – or what he's been doing?”

                  “This is Cas, and in case you forgot, he’s not exactly Chatty Cathy.” Which is annoying most of the time but respectable. Cas speaks only when he needs to and in as much as needed. Nothing more or less. Actually, it’s kind of pleasant not to put up with bullshit people say.

                  “And you're not even gonna see him when you're in Idaho?”

                  “Well, like I said, as long as he's catnip for angels, he's keeping his distance.” Which wasn’t true exactly, the angels probably have no idea where Cas is. If they did, he was sure Cas would let him know. Or maybe not, this was Cas after all.

                  “So then, what's the point, Dean?” Sam asked from behind him making him turn. What the hell was that supposed to mean? He shot his brother a glare daring him to continue on. Sam Got the message though and amended his question, “ I mean, it’s barely a case.”

                  “That's why I'm just gonna go have a little look-see, and … we're not gonna waste a whole lot of manpower on a big pile of nada.” And who said he wasn’t going to stop by and see Cas? It’s that having Sam, and therefore Zeke, tag along is not a good idea.

                  Kevin though just rolled his eyes, “in other words, a perfect excuse to bail out on research.” Sam arched his eyebrow showing his agreement with the prophet.

                  Smiling, cause that was just an added bonus, “you got me,” before he headed to the garage.

 

* * *

 

                  It’s been almost several hours since he had called Dean and somehow fixed the slushie machine. Remarkable for such a small place, the upkeep of it required constant work. Stocking the shelves, bagging items, cleaning the restrooms and general maintenance never ended. As soon as one was done, something else came up. Which to his human co-workers became boring and repetitive but to him, there was a dignity to it.

                  Angels were meant to take orders and do certain tasks. Some were warriors, some leaders, others were healers or agents of fate like the cupids. Everyone had their duty, from the lowly scribes to the mighty archangels. So to him, he who had broken so much of his home and life somehow found comfort in doing these tasks others considered mundane. Even if it was as simple as changing a light.

                  He was thinking about how the florescent gases light up inside the blub when Nora caught his attention. In her hand he saw that she was carrying is toiletry bag. “Hey, Steve? I found this in the supply closet,” she asked holding the bag up. “Do you know whose it is?”

                  “Um…” he muttered as he came down the ladder thinking of an explanation quickly. Best to start off with the truth, just not the whole truth. “That’s mine. Thanks.”

                  Nora gave him a concerned look, “I also found a rolled-up sleeping bag behind the tool locker”

                  “Ah…yes, um…I wanted to be thorough with inventory, so I worked late last week, and taking a nap here was easier than going back home to my bed.” It disturbed him on a small level to know how easy it was to lie for now. “Which…I-I have of course. A bed…and…a home.” The last word pulled at his heart since he lost both in the matter of days.

                  If she knew he was lying, she didn’t show it. Rather, she smiled, “Wow, Steve. You're so... responsible.” Handing him the bag, she turned to walk away. Going only a couple of steps, she turned to him with a nervous look on her face. “I've been afraid to ask. I-I don't want to take advantage of you as my employee, and I certainly don't want to jeopardize our working relationship. But as a working single mom, it's hard enough to get a date, let alone meet a really great guy.”

                  Quirking his head a bit, he was puzzled at where she was leading. They had discussed her situation of a single mother many times. This could be another attempt at flirting, which he was pretty sure was the case this time. However, he continued to listen. “And … tomorrow's my night off, and I know you're off, too, and … I was just wondering if there's any chance you're... free tomorrow night?”

                  The proposal, even partially expected, did catch him by surprise still. “Um…yes?” he responded with caution before going, as Dean would say, all in. “Yes,” he said again, more confident.

                  A smile breaking out on her face, she gave him a quick peck on the check. “You’re the best!” she said before she went off with a happy step. He himself just ran his fingers over his check where she kissed him and smiled inwardly, and maybe a bit outwardly. He wasn’t seriously expecting this, but courting is a human activity and he looks forward to the date. Before climbing up on the ladder, he wondered if Dean would be proud of him.

                  The scene at the cabin was just one bad Pepto-Bismol commercial. Smelled weird and looked even funkier. Everything was pink and it just seemed wrong in every sense. There was no doubt now…this was supernatural. But what exactly can do that to a person? There was someone who might.

                  So on the drive over he mulled what it could be before he decided to  also give Sam a try. His brother answered after the first ring. “Hey Dean.”

                  “So how’s all the doodles and scribbles? Making any sense?”

                  “Yeah, we're almost through the texts over here.” He can hear the fatigue and frustration in his brothers voice. “We got nothing,” Sam admitted after a brief pause.

                  “Have you tried Professor Morrison?” Guy was helpful, if not exactly in the most voluntary way.

                  “Yeah, he's unreachable. He took a sabbatical to live amongst the Trobrianders of Papua New Guinea. Needless to say, we're pretty burnt.”

                  He figured that those two were. There was something he did think of that they hadn’t though. “Well, there’s one guy there who is nothing if well-rested.”

                  “Crowley?” Sam asked cautiously.

                  “I'm just saying we're not keeping him chained up for the one-liners.” Cheeky and clever as they may be. Of course, he’s really keeping him because he wants to end the demon himself…but only after they use him like he had in the past.

                  “It’s worth a shot I guess,” Sam conceded.

                  “Just be careful, all right? Don't fall for any of his "quid pro quo" crap.”

                  “Noted.” Sam paused again before he moved to his ‘let’s talk about our feelings’ voice. “So…what about you? How’s Cas’s lead panning out?”

                  He shrugged at the pink horror, “Four victims suddenly exploded. I tried EMF. I've looked for hex bags, sulfur – nada.”

                  “Spontaneous combustion? Maybe the Thule?”

                  “No, no, no. I already ruled them out. The bodies were vaporized. They weren't burned.”

                  He could practically hear the gears running through Sam’s head. “Hmmm, seems like a real case. Dean, I should be there.”

                  “Naw,” he replied shaking his head. “That's – That's uh ... not necessary. No, I, uh – I got this one covered,” he replied before closing the phone. It’s covered because the one person who can help right now is across the street.

                  It’s surreal to see a former angel, a powerful warrior, ex-wanna be god and his best friend bagging groceries in a dime a dozen Gas-N-Sip. And just watching Cas doing something so…low made him angry and sad. Angry because Cas is better than this, deserves better than this. Sad because he was the one who had to do this to Cas.

                  He knew where Cas was all this time. He never figured out that the GPS on the phone given to him was active. And yeah, it was a shitty thing to ignore Cas, but he didn’t want to bring up those…feelings. Cas wouldn’t stay away if he suspected that something was wrong. And, after Sam, Cas knew him better than anyone else. So he had to be dick, and ignore Cas while he tried to establish himself.

                  Tapping his phone against the roof of the Impala, he thought he might just continue one this case solo. From here, it does seem that Cas is doing okay. Yeah, maybe he should pretend he never came by. That was, until he saw Cas smile widely at the customer whose groceries he just bagged. And damn, if it wasn’t the most cheesy thing he had ever saw. Fuck it, he’s going in.

            He walked in as Cas was giving a woman an overly enthusiastic wish of good luck to the woman in front of him. Creepy as it was, it was just plain funny at how bad Cas is at being personable. At least he doesn’t have a stick up his ass anymore as we walked up to the counter while Cas was turned around. Genuinely happy, the grin on his face wasn’t forced . “I'll have some beef jerky and a pack of menthols,” he said cheerfully.

            Recognizing his voice, Cas turned around and squinted at him like he does when he’s thinking too hard. “What are you doing here?” Cas asked surprised and guarded.

            He pursed his lips, “Gee…it’s nice to see you too Cas.”

            Looking around to ensure no one was listening, Cas leaned forward a bit toward him. “It’s…Steve now,” he said tapping his name badge. “And, you just surprised me.”

            “Well, the feeling is mutual,” he replied looking over the store. “I mean, I know you had to lie low from the angel threat, but, wow Cas. This is some cover.” He didn’t try to hide the sarcasm in his voice. This was really below Cas to work minimum wage in the backend of nowhere. ’ _But you’re the one who kicked him out remember?’_ he thought ruefully. Seeing it just made him feel guilty all over again.

            Cas must have picked up on it because he seemed offended when he spoke. “My Grace is gone. What did you expect? Do you have any idea how hard it was? When I fell to earth, I didn’t just lose my powers.” He turned slightly away and look down, “I had nothing Dean.” The sorrow in the last sentence made his guilt even worse. “Now though,” Cas said straightening up proudly, “I’m a sales associate.”

            How can he be proud of that? “A sales associate? Really Cas?”

            The beer guy came over and he and Cas exchanged clipboards and papers. While signing, Cas continued, “I'm responsible for inventory, sales, customer service. I keep this place clean and presentable.” He signed the papers and thanked the beer guy before looking back at Dean. “And when my manager’s busy, I even prepare the food.”

            “Wow….so you went from fighting battles in Heaven to nuking taquitos?”

            Cas smiled proudly, “and nachos too.”

            Seeing that smile for some reason made him doubly guilty and angry. How can Cas take pride in such a piece of shit job? He shook his head, “C’mon Cas, this isn’t you. You’re above this.”

            “No Dean, I’m not,” Cas replied stubbornly while picking up a box. “I failed at being an angel. Everything I ever attempted came out wrong. But here … at least I have a shot at getting things right. I guess you can't see it, but … there's a real dignity in what I do – human dignity.”

            He was about to tell Cas off when a pretty blonde came over. “Hate to interrupt you guys but Steve? A customer had an accident in the men’s room.”

            Cas smiled at her, ”I’m on it.”

            The woman returned it in kind, “Thanks! And oh, tonight…seven at my place work for you?”

            “That would be great.”

            “You’re the best!” she replied as she gave him a quick hug before going away.

            That sly devil…or angel. Cas was interested in the woman. Why else would he want to work at a place like this? And she was hot too. If Cas wasn’t interested in her, she’d be on his radar. That brought a smile back on his face. Maybe some of him did rub off on Cas. “That’s what this is about!”

            Cas looked at him confused. “What?”

            “The girl.”

            It clicked in Cas’s head because the angel blushed a bit. “Uh…no Dean. It’s not. Nora’s a nice woman.” He just nodded as Cas went on, “I'm pretty sure she's not a reaper intent on killing me … and she's asked me out. Going on dates – that's something humans do, right?”

            “Yeah, I mean, my dates usually end when I run out of singles, but yeah. Dating is something humans do.” He was about to pry more info from Cas when his phone rang. It was the sheriff calling to let him know there’s been another death. While he was speaking Cas went about tiding the shelf beside him. Hanging up, he went back to business. “There was another kill, over that the high school You want to come?”

            Cas frowned, “I wouldn’t be much use. I don’t have my powers.”

            “So? I don’t have any powers.”

            “You’re a hunter.”

            “And you’re a hunter in training remember?” He did on the Fred Jones case.

            “Yeah, I remember. You said I sucked.” Cas replied indignant.

            “What? No! I didn’t say that. I…uh, said there was room for improvement.” He moved toward to door beckoning to Cas to follow. “Now, come on.”

            Cas, honest to god, rolled his eyes at him. Damn, Cas was getting better at being human than he thought. “All right, my shift's over in five minutes, and my date's not until later, so...”

            “Attaboy! That’s my Cas. I’ll go get the car.” He felt relief to know that Cas was coming with.

            “Not just yet,” Cas said making him turn around, “I still need to clean the bathroom remember?”

           

* * *

 

            The ride over to the latest scene didn’t hold a conversation between him and Dean. Instead, Dean turned up his music and smiled at him. Obviously Dean was happy to see him, and proud of him for going on a date. Which further confused him because just moments before the hunter was upset that he took, in his opinion, a lowly job. Still, it was…reassuring to be back in the black car with Dean. He still had his guilt and was still hurt from the past couple of weeks. Right now with Dean he felt, not happy, but content. Other than the case, this day is going well.

            Or it was until he saw the familiar pink substance that was the hallmark of the Rit Zien. While Dean went off to talk to the human authorities, he leaned on the Impala his guilt surging again. How could he not known that the Rit Zien would continue their work down here on Earth? Every angel, even those who had never walked the Earth are now lost here, trying to do what they have always done. These deaths, they were just more blood on his already stained hands.

            Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t feel the hand on his lower back until Dean asked him a question. “Cas, what’s wrong?” the hunter said with concern laced in his voice.

            “I have seen this before,” he muttered quietly to Dean before straightening up to look at Dean.

            “What? Where?”

            “In Heaven.”

            Dark clouds passed over Dean’s face but his eyes held concern. “You saying an angel did this?”

            “Yes. It's no ordinary angel. Dean, this is bad. This is very bad.” Dean nodded and motioned to get back into the car. Once inside, he continued, “On the battlefields of Heaven, there was a special class of angel, the Rit Zien. It's, uh, Enochian for "Hands of Mercy." They functioned like medics. They tended to the wounded. They healed those who could be healed, but for the mortally wounded, those who were past saving, the Rit Zien's job was to put them down.”

            “But the granulated bodies?”

            “This was their special ability. They had this way of smiting that was so quick and so total that it rendered death virtually painless.” Normally angels would use their grave to literally burn those they smite with holy fire. It is not pleasant for most beings. The Rit Zien are granted this ability to offer a mercy other angels cannot.

            “Yeah, but these aren't wounded angels that they're vaporizing, they're people.” Dean spoke stating the obvious.

            “Right. I don't know. The Rit Zien home in on pain, it's like a beacon to them. So, when this angel fell to earth, he heard the victims' cries, and their anguish, same as he'd hear an angel's in heaven. He's continuing his heavenly work down here. One suffering human at a time.”

            “Yeah, but this last victim was not suffering. She was just a normal, moody kid.” Dean looked out the window to the still cordoned off area. It was plain to Dean that he was angry again at another member of his family.

            Years earlier, he would have been perplexed by Dean’s reaction. Human emotions are so much…more than any angels. “But he just got here. The ebb and flow of human emotion – Dean, I've been on earth for a few years, and I've only begun to grasp it. To him, pain is pain.”

            Dean made the face that let him know that he understood what he said. It was after all mostly Dean’s efforts to introduce him the many facets of humanity. After a moment, Dean spoke, “so everyone is fair game then?” He nodded. “Okay…well, we have to stop him.”

            Again, his mind raced with all the evils he committed against Heaven and his family. The guilt and fear washed over him. This he cannot do, he does not want to do this again. “You have to stop him,” he said looking at Dean.

            Turning to face him more, Dean looked at him carefully with concern again. “You’re scared.”

            Was he scared? Yes. Yes he was. “It's different now, Dean. Everything feels different.” _I’m different,_ he thought to himself.

            There was a silence again between them as he turned away from Dean, wanting to hide his shame for being weak. No wonder Dean didn’t want him in the bunker. He is useless to them. Surely Dean would berate him for being weak and blame him for all of this. When Dean spoke though there was no scorn in his voice. “You're right. All right, I'll track down this, uh, Kevorkian wannabe, and I'll put him down.

            He was so surprised, that all he can say was okay. This is not what he expected. Looking back at Dean, he found Dean there just being a friend. The look on the man’s face was one of a carefully constructed smile, meant to reassure him it was indeed okay. Dean arched an eyebrow at him, “well?”

            The silence ended, he felt relief that Dean wasn’t going to make him go with him. It would seem he actually had Dean’s blessing to continue what he was doing. If that was the case, then he would go out and be ‘normal’. “I need a ride,” he asked wanting to go on this date now.

            Nodding with a smile, Dean turned the ignition. “Right,” the man said before pulling out.

 

* * *

 

            He pulled into a well kept quiet residential neighborhood as soon as night had fallen. Looking past his passenger he saw that he was in the right house. Part of him was kinda upset that Cas was going on a date while he had to go put down this Ritz thing. The other part was proud and happy that Cas was actually doing something normal for one. No monsters, no angels, no fights or anything. Cas was going on a date. His best friend was going on his very first date and damn, he was proud.

            Moving to open the door, Cas looked over at him, “thanks Dean for driving me to Nora’s.”

            Wait a minute! Cas just can’t go looking like that! It looks like he just got off work…which was technically true, but he thought that Cas was leading him to his place to change. “Cas! Wait…” he nearly yelled. Stopping, Cas closed the door. “I can’t let you do this.”

            Cas tilted his head, “what?”

            He looked at the horribly blue vest, “you’re not seriously going to wear that? On a date?”

            Looking down then back at him, “Dean…this is all I have.”

            ‘ _What?’_ he thought at how this could be the only clothes the angel has. But this wasn’t the time to go over that. He’ll be damned(again) if he’s going to let Cas go out looking like that. “Okay…lose the vest.” When Cas looked at him confused, he reached over and began to undo the buttons himself.”

            “What…what are you doing?”

            “Lose the vest man, come on,” he commanded. Not arguing or questioning why, Cas did what he was told and handed it to him where he threw it in the back. Looking over Cas again, “that’s a little better. All right, you know, how about you unbutton the shirt?”

            Slowly, Cas did what he was told and he could see that Cas was still tan as ever. It surprised him the first time that he had seen Cas without a shirt, seeing how tan and strong he actually was. Following those long fingers unbuttoning, he became entranced in an old memory before he realized that Cas was showing too much skin. “Whoa there, that’s far enough Tony Manero,” he said causing Cas to stop giving him the ‘I don’t understand that reference face’, making him laugh.

            Regaining his composure, he leaned in to give some advice. “Yeah. Good. All right. Listen to me. Always open the door for her, okay? Ask a lot of questions. They like that. And, uh... Oh, if she says she's happy to go Dutch … she's lying. All right?”

            Cas nodded, probably because he had no idea what he was talking about again. Oh well, he’s done his duty for the moment. “Okay,” he said proudly giving Cas a good luck slap, “go get’em tiger.”

         

* * *

 

   Getting up and out of the car, Cas walked up the small walkway to the house and was halfway when he turned around. He chuckled because he could see how nervous Cas was. It reminded him when Sam started dating. Smiling again, he gave a thumbs up and a wink. Shakily, Cas returned the gesture.

            Going up the stairs, he saw Cas stopped again but instead of turning around, he bent over a rosebush. Taking out some clippers, Cas cut a single rose. “Nice touch,” he said to himself. Then he noticed that Cas was making gestures for him to go. Oh, this brought back memories. Playfully, he pointed to street at Cas who just made his gestures more strongly. Chuckling, he turned the engine and was about to pull off when he saw a truck almost backing into him. Swearing a bit, he quickly motioned for the driver to stop. When he had enough room, he angrily pulled away. Some jackasses had no idea how to drive.

            He was nervous, which was curious because he had faced down beings beyond comprehension without so much as a worry and now he is nervous on a simple date? It was such a ludicrous thought but a true one. Nora was a good woman who is beautiful and kind. She gave him a chance, she trusted him even though she had no reason to. This date is something he doesn’t want to mess up like he does everything else.

            Turning back to Dean, he saw his friend giving him a thumb up with a beaming smile.  Smiling weakly back, he felt how proud Dean was of him. That only added to the pressure to not mess this up. Looking back at the house, he saw there were several rose bushes in the front. Remembering from a movie that flowers are common to give to a date, he pulled out his clippers and chose a rose to give to Nora. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice it came from her garden.

            Now on the porch, he still felt Dean watching him and that only made him more nervous. What if Nora rejected him when she saw him? Or laughed when he presented the flower or everything went bad. What if Dean saw and became disappointed? A bit frantic, he turned around to let Dean know he was okay and that he should leave. Getting the message, Dean drove off after he backed away from the truck that was now parking.

            Taking a deep breath, he walked up to the door. ‘ _I can do this,_ ’ he thought to himself. Ringing the doorbell, he waited for what seemed an eternity before Nora opened the door. She had only one earing on but the dress she wore was flattering and her hair was down. Seeing it was him, she smiled wide. “Steve!” she exclaimed, “ I’m so glad you’re here.” Opening the door wider, he smiled back at her while she continued to get ready. “Come in. I thought I was gonna be late!”

            _‘Late?’_ he questioned to himself. How could she be late, if anything, he was late. Coming inside, he looked around the small home. It was clean and felt lived in. Keeping the rose behind him, he looked back at Nora but she had already turned away still trying to put on the earring. Following her, he asked, “late for what?”

            Finally with the jewelry in, she grabbed her purse in the kitchen where he followed her in. “My date!” she replied happily not looking at him but rather at the mirror. “Bowling, would you believe it? But damned if I'm not dressing fancy, even for bowling. Haven't had an excuse to doll up since Tanya was born.”

            It dawned to him that he _wasn’t_ the date. His hope and nervousness became replaced by embarrassment. How foolish he was _again._ Once more, he failed to read the situation correctly and misjudged. If his face reflected that, Nora did not notice. She was happy as can be as she went on pointing to the living room.  “And there she is, my little angel. Now, she's already been fed. She'll probably sleep the whole time, and I'll only be gone a couple of hours. I just couldn't get my usual sitter, and I needed somebody here just in case she wakes up and starts crying. Which she won't, I promise. Baby Tanya never cries.”

            He looked into the darkened room and saw the crib that he presumed held the child. She was quiet and from he recalled from earlier conversations, Tanya is a well behaved child. Still, he feels dejected and stupid. Yet Nora was so happy to go on this date, he didn’t want to tarnish it because of his failure.  So he simply nodded and kept the rose hidden from her as she walked briskly to the door. “Wish me luck! Oh, and thank you so much Steve, you’re really the best.” With that she went out the door leaving him alone with an infant.

            “Babysitting,” he said glumly as he placed the rose on the counter and buttoned up his shirt. Well, he might not have a date but he does, at least for the next couple of hours have a place and purpose. At least Dean wasn’t here to witness his latest failure. He didn’t want to know what Dean would say to him once he learned that he hadn’t gone on a date. Then Tanya started to cry.

            Sighing, he walked over the crib to the crying child. For a second, he wished he could use his grace to calm her but because of his other failure, he didn’t have that. No, he had to do things the human way. Leaning over, he looked at Tanya, “Hello? Um... Please – please don't.” She still cried. What was he thinking? That she would quiet down because he asked? Thinking again, he mused on what to do next.  “Um …okay,” he said as he picked her up. “How 'bout – how 'bout a lullaby?”

            But he didn’t know any lullaby’s. In fact, the only songs he knew where the ones Dean played in his car. Most of those would be inappropriate for a child, but there was one that came into mind.

♪ Look at what's happenin' to me ♪  
♪ I can't believe it myself ♪  
♪ suddenly I'm up on top of the world ♪  
♪ it should've been somebody else ♪

While he sung and Tanya quieted down to listen to him, he thought about the meaning of the words. Dean had told him it was from one of the greatest TV shows about a man who had received superpowers. However great and powerful he became though, he was still human. The hero was just a man still. Like he was just a man now, with no grace.

♪ oh, believe it or not ♪  
♪ I'm walkin' on air ♪  
♪ I never thought I would feel so free-e-e ♪  
♪ flyin' away on a wing and a prayer ♪  
♪ who could it be? ♪  
♪ Believe it or not, it's just me ♪  
♪ believe it or not, it's just me ♪

            Flying on a wing and a prayer. He remembered his wings. He remembered how it was to fly. The prayers he heard, and the one person whose prayer was the only one he answered. How he had fallen so low. It was never in his nature to be a hero, it was though for him to do what is right. And the man who showed him that, and so much more was Dean. Noticing that Tanya had fallen asleep against him. Glad at his ability to relax her, he placed her gently back on the bed.

            Which as soon as his hands left her, she began to cry again. Sighing, he picked her back that seemed to comfort her again slightly. Cradling her, he patted her soothingly on the back. “Shh, I know…” he said softly, knowing how much people like to be held when they are in pain. Maybe it’s an instinct, because he remembered when he held Dean after Stull.

            Sitting down in the rocking chair, he began to rock slowly. The motion was calming for them both. “Nobody told you. Nobody explained. You're just … shoved out kicking and screaming into this human life, without any idea why any of it feels the way it feels, or why this confusion, which feels like it's … a hair's breadth from terror or pain.” He wasn’t born per se, but he came out human kicking and screaming in his fall from Heaven. He recalled that now, the pain of his grace being drained, his agony of his wings ripped away. So much pain that he passed out.

            “You know, just when you think you do understand, it'll turn out you're wrong. You didn't understand anything at all. Guess that's just how it is when you're new at this. You know, it wasn't that long ago when all I'd need to do to ease your pain was touch you.”

To emphasize his point, he touched her forehead.  She was warm and she looked flushed. “You're very warm. Is that normal?” Maybe he should call Nora. Were babies supposed to be this warm? He was pretty sure they were not supposed to . Still holding her, he went looking for some why to measure her temperature. Finding nothing, he thought about what to do next.

Taking out his phone, he dialed Nora and left a message when she didn’t answer. Perhaps he should take her to the hospital anyway. Better to be safe than sorry. Mulling it over again, he looked at the tired child making up his mind. ”Okay, Tanya, we're taking a little walk.”

When he opened the door though, there stood a short blond man. Something about him was familiar but he couldn’t figure it out at the second. Also he had an innocent child in his arms he was charged to protect. The person looked at him and smiled, “hello Castiel.”

* * *

 

He hoped Cas was having a good time with this Nora chick. She is hot and seemed nice. Maybe Cas will get lucky tonight. And after all he’s been through, Cas needs a lucky break. _It’s been a while since I’ve gotten lucky,’_ he mused as he drove aimlessly. There’s got to be a bar here he can hustle and maybe see who can meet. Maybe he’s getting old, or maybe it’s because of the last couple of people he has been with, but sex doesn’t quite hold the same appeal to him as before.

Actually, when he thinks about it, his sex life has been way more demure since he was saved from hell. Before, he was, no…still is, a master of getting laid. It’s just that…well, he doesn’t always know what he wants. Maybe he wants something more…substantive than just one night stands.

His phone rang, which he was thankful for, thinking about his lack of a sex life can be depressing.  Looking at the caller ID, he saw it is the local sheriff. “Sheriff?” he answered in his agent voice.

Not bothering with introductions, the man went right into the reason he called. “Now, here's a wrinkle. Our first crime scene, married couple? Full analysis of the spray came in from the lab. Turns out it only contains the wife's DNA”

Only the wife’s DNA? That could only lead to one conclusion. “The husbands still out there.”

“Yup,” the sheriff agreed.

This might be a break in the case, “okay, hold tight. I’ll be over in about five.”

It was a short drive to the station and he was let in with no fuss. Heading into the office of the sheriff, he older man looked at him and nodded to the pile of papers on the desk. Picking one the first case file, he leafed through it again. “So, just her DNA then? No trace of the husband anywhere?”

Shaking his head, “No. And not trace of him either. Thing is, he was already a bit screwy, but then he found religion. She was a hard-line atheist, no peach herself, when he got himself obsessed with this Buddy Boyle whack job, an already bad marriage got worse. Kept telling her to "Let God in."

“Buddy Boyle. That explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“Uh, never mind. Let’s see,” he grabbed the additional info on the husband.  Huh, that truck looked familiar. _‘Shit,’_ he thought. Who was the sorriest bastard in the entire region? He looked at the sheriff checking to see if he was wrong, “that his truck?”

“Yup”

“Cas…” he whispered as he began rushing out the office.

* * *

 

There was no point to fight, he was unarmed holding an infant. So he backed away to which the angel stepped forward. Though he might not have his grace, he had a feeling he knew this angel. Slowly, he retreated back into the living room as…Ephraim he thinks, looks around. “Squalid little dump. No wonder she cries.”

Taking a chance, he placed Tonya into the crib just in case he needed to fight. It would be a short fight though, and one he would surely lose. Instead, he’s gonna try to talk himself out of this one. “It’s a fever, Ephraim. It will pass,” he said as he turned back to the intruder.

Ephraim seemed awed at his recall. He was just glad he guessed right. “You remember my name? I was just a nobody when we met, but you – you were a legend. You've been here before. This is my first time, and it's ... intense.”

“You know, there's a lot you don't understand about humanity at first. If you would just stop—“

At this Ephraim looked at him confused. “Stop? I won't stop … until I wash the planet clean of all suffering.”

He feared this might be the case. Ephraim would continue doing what he was meant to, even though he shouldn’t. Behind him, Tanya started crying again. Hearing her, Ephraim stepped closer, “allow me.”

Rushing to stand between her and the angel, he mustered all the strength he could. “You. Do. Not. Touch. Her,” he nearly growled.

Ephrain lowered his arm and stepped back. “You think I came for her? No, Castiel. I came for you.” He stepped closer again, but to him instead. “So much pain and despair, so many voices begging out for relief.”

He swallowed his fear and began inching away to the kitchen, away from Tanya. “How’d you find me?”

“Because you're warded? The same way I find all my patients – I just followed the sound of your pain. You have no idea how loud it is. I could hear you for miles.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The truck was still there, and the front door was only slightly open letting a sliver a light to come through. The angel must have made his move and be inside. Dammit! No chance for an easy kill then. He hopes Cas and that woman are okay. Parking behind the truck, he grabbed the angel blade and stealthily entered the house. Hiding beside the door, he could Cas and he assumed the angel talking.

“Because you're warded? The same way I find all my patients – I just followed the sound of your pain. You have no idea how loud it is. I could hear you for miles,” the angel said.

“Do you really think you're doing Heaven's work down here?” Cas said, sounding closer and closer. So Cas is up and about, and more importantly, not dead.

“You know I am.”

“Well, you're wrong. Earth can be a hard place. But these humans, they can get better. They're just doing the best they can.” Turning his head, he could see through the drapes that Cas was in the kitchen, holding the rose he clipped earlier. Then he saw the blood and became worried that there was already a fight but then he saw what Cas was doing. He was trying to draw a banishing sigil!

He also saw the angel inching closer to Cas. “Is that what you think you're doing, Castiel – the best you can? Well, I'm sorry. But if this is the best that the famed Castiel can do, you're a more urgent case than I thought. I used to admire you. You failed more often than you succeeded. But at least you played big.” That’s when the angel grabbed Cas’s bloody hand. Dammit, that plan failed. “Now what are you doing? Burying your head in the sand. Right when your kind needs you the most.” He pinned Cas further even though Cas struggled back, “Shh-shh-shhh. It'll be over soon. I'll take the pain away.”

“Shit,” he hissed as he began to move closer to the door to tackle the angel. That’s when he heard Cas say, “I want to live.” That’s it, that’s all he needs to hear. ‘ _Cas ain’t dying on my watch again’,_ he thought furiously as he kicked the door open.

Ephraim loomed over him, ready to smite him. For a second, it was all calm. He had faced death many times, and at those times he accepted it. And perhaps before, he might have welcomed the oblivion of death…if he could actually stay dead. No, resurrection hurt and there was no guarantee he would be brought back again. This time, he wants to live. He had to redeem himself. “I want to live,” he spat back at the encroaching enemy.

“But as what, Castiel? As an angel? Or a man?” Ephraim asked pointedly before they heard the door being kicked open. And again, there was Dean with a blade on hand. This was déjà vu all over again from when he was at Aprils. And, as at Aprils, Dean was flung across the room again. As Dean tried to get up, Ephraim looked at him, “You say you want to live. But you can't see what I see. By choosing a human life, by choosing him, you've already given up. You … chose … death.”

With Ephraim raising his hand to smite him, he looked over at Dean. Dean was still on the floor but he saw the horror on his face. For an eternal second, their eyes locked and he knew. Dean didn’t want him to die. He didn’t want to die either. So when that angel blade slid over to him, there was no hesitation as he killed yet one more angel.

            Blinding light and a scream of death erupted from Ephraim as his body slid off the blade. As the empty vessel crumbled onto the floor, the remorse hit him again. He had killed another angel. Again. The blade clattered to the floor and the world closed around him. He looked with remorse at the now empty vessel of his brother. More blood on his hands, more death. Was this all he could do? Bring pain, misery and death to all he knew?

            Then he felt being hugged in leather and strong arms. The shock of being held disrupted his litany of woe and he realized that Dean was holding him. “Cas,” Dean whispered, “I got you buddy.” And he really did, he was leaning into the taller man for support. Dean wanted him to live too he remembered. If Dean hadn’t come here, he might have died.  No, he’s going to live, even with all this guilt.

            Knowing how Dean hated physical contact, he nudged Dean off him as he regained his composure. Part of him wanted to continue their embrace. He had been embraced so rarely before, with care and love. So few angels will eve stand, and, as he looked at Dean, so few humans will too. “Thank you Dean,” he said softly.

            Stepping back, Dean still had a concerned looked before he went to a more relaxed nonchalant look, “yeah, well, don’t tell anybody okay?” Scratching the bach of his head, he looked at Cas carefully, “and what did I say about this kind of crap Cas?”

            He looked at his feet, “not to do it again.”

            “That’s right. Now where is Nora?” Dean asked looking around.

            Oh, Dean doesn’t know that he is babysitting. Tanya! He rushed over to the crying baby who had no clue on what just happened. Picking her up, he began patting her back to sooth her. “Nora is on a date. I misread the situation. She was asking me to babysit. I thought that Ephraim was coming for her because she has a fever and was in pain.”

            Dean shrugged before looking at the infant and placing his hand on her forehead. “It’s a low grade fever Cas, probably from teething. Just give her some Tylenol and she’ll be okay.”

            “How do you know Dean? I was about to take her to the hospital,” he still asked worried.

            Chuckling as he dropped to his knees to exam the body, “remember Sammy was a baby before he became a giant? Yeah, I was there to take care of him, though the old man said just dabbed whiskey on his gums. Seriously, it’s not bad.”

            The man had a point and he would know more about this than he. So while Dean did clean up, since he doubted Nora would want a dead body in her kitchen, he found the medicine. After a while, Tanya did calm down and went to sleep in his arms as he sang softly again.

         

* * *

 

   It was about thirty minutes later after he placed the body in the trunk that Nora came back. Obviously Cas was nervous that she would find out about what happened in her home but she didn’t . In fact, she thanked him from saving her from a boring date. While Nora and Cas chatted, he out to the Impala to give the two some space. As soon as he reached the car, his phone rang.

            This late of a call could only be from Sam so he answered quickly. “What’s up?”

            “So get this, Crowley does know how to read those ancient languages. Thanks for the suggestion.” 

            He figured that the devil would know a thing or two about that stuff. Question was, no doubt that slimy dealer wanted something in return, so what was it? “Uh-huh, and what did Crowley want in return.”

            There was silence, “he wanted to make a call.”

            “Dammit Sam! What did I tell you?”

            “It was the only way Dean. I did what I had to. We were just spinning our wheels over here,” Sam calmly said defending himself. “But, we did keep an eye over him when he made the call. And you won’t believe this, but it’s a good thing we did, ‘cause we got some valuable info as well.”

            “Okay, better be worth it,” he huffed out. That’s damn stupid what those tow did at the bunker. But he’ll take a silver lining.

            “Abaddon is taking over hell since Crowley is not there to fight back. Apparently there’s a civil war brewing down there. The good news is that Crowley _wants_ to help us now.”

            “That ain’t much good news. And Crowley helping us? Seriously Sam, it’s Crowley. He’s gonna play us the first moment he gets.”

            “Yeah, like we don’t know that Dean. For now though, we have the advantage over him.”

            “Okay, fine. Whatever, we’ll deal with him and Abaddon later.  Got anything useful out of him though?” He asked as he looked at the house. Through the window he can see Cas and Nora still talking. But it was silence over the line still, “still there Sammy?”

            Sam let out a deep breath over the phone, “there’s no easy way to say this, but…according to the translation Crowley gave us, the spell is irreversible.”

            He was quiet for a moment, “there’s no way. Crowley’s lying.” There has to be a way. That lying son of a bitch is gonna use this as leverage. He has to.

            “No, Dean, not this time. Look, Metatron built the spell to withstand any attempt to reverse it. There is no putting the angels back in Heaven. It's done,” Sam said with resignation. “We grilled Crowley, and we double checked. It’s true Dean. There’s no fixing this.”

            “Shit, and what about Cas’s grace? Is it…you know..,” he asked hesitantly.

            “I’m sorry Dean, but it looks like it’s gone.”

            ‘ _Fuck,_ ’ he thought as he leaned against the Impala. How the hell is going to tell Cas? And how is he going to take it? Looking back up, he saw Cas and Nora coming out of the house. His friend had a smile and seemed okay now, even after another near death experience. This…this would devastate him.

            “Are you going to tell Cas?”

            Cas was coming toward the car now. “I got to go Sammy,” he quickly replied as he ended the call. Putting on a smile, he faced Cas, “so Cas, where to?”Cas shrugged as he opened the door to get inside the car. When baby rumbled to life, he pulled away and started driving away. Cas was still silent and he can feel the man brooding beside him. Evidently, he was just putting on a face like he was.

            “So…how’s Nora?” he asked for wont of anything better to ask.

            “Her date was a bust she said, but she is okay with that,” Cas replied before he turned his head more toward him. “She also said I was special because I care.”

            He glimpsed over at Cas before looking back at the street. “Well, I guess that’s kinda true,” he reaffirmed. “I mean, uh, you do care about what happens, otherwise you wouldn’t have done a lot of things.”

            “Like what Dean?” Cas replied with bitterness. “The forced expulsion of all the angels? The release of the Leviathan?”

            “Well, yeah those were big screw ups and not entirely your fault. You took those souls to  stop Raphael and you thought you were helping the angels. You did that because you cared about us, about your family. So yeah, that makes you special.” Again he glanced over to see if he encouragement had any effect. If there was, Cas didn’t show it. ‘ _Okay, on to plan B then,’_ he thought as he turned onto the main street.           “You know what Cas, let’s have ourselves a post victory drink after we, uh take care of the evidence. We solved the case and hey, we’re still alive.”

            That got a reaction from Cas ‘cause he finally looked over at him, “actually, that sound like a good idea.”

            “I do have them you know,” he grinned.

            “Just not very often,” Cas said softly as he grinned back.

            He looked over pretending to gasp, “did you just make a joke at my expense Cas?”

            “Yes. Was it funny?”

* * *

 

            He’s a lightweight. Must be. Cause he can clearly…well, not clearly remember that last time it took considerably more than just two shots and beer to be drunk. “I think I might be drunk...” he exclaimed t Dean who sat across from him in the booth.

            “Aw, you’re not drunk. You’re…uh, tipsy. Drunk is when you can’t ‘member anything you’re doing or done,” Dean explained as he took another swig.

            That sounded like a good idea. “Oh. I want to be drunk then. Can I have another shot of tequila?”

            Dean looked at him apprehension, like he had said something wrong. “No way Cas. Just finish you’re beer. The point isn’t to get drunk, it’s just to, um, relax.”

            “But I don’t want to remember a lot of things Dean,” he said without thought sadly. His emotional control was haphazard as it was, and the alcohol only lessened that.  “Romans were right with _en vino veritas_ apparently,” he added.

            Dean looked at him with concern, “okay...what the hell does the mean? Wait, _veritas_ , hold on…that means truth! I remember that case.”

            He finished his beer, “it means _in wine truth_.” Placing the glass down carefully, he tried to concentrate enough to rebuild his composure. “It just…today just ate ass.”

            “Sucks ass Cas, and yeah, I don’t blame ya. You hungry? I think we should get some food in you to soak up that alcohol, make you feel better. Sound good?” His stomach answered for him and he looked embarrassed at Dean. “I’ll take that as a yes. How about we blow this place and get something to eat huh?”

            Nodding, they both stood up but he found himself unsure in his footing. He felt incredible light before he felt Dean steady him around his waist and lead them out the door. “Next time Cas, we gotta work on your pacing,” the hunter grunted as he opened the door for him.

            “Alcohol evaporates more quickly than water, I just wanted to make drink it before it did,” he added without reason. “And these seats are really comfortable.”

            “Bucket seats Cas. They’re the best to have. Not this new ass warmer crap,” Dean said as he patted the empty area between them before turning the key. “This is how man is supposed to travel. You know of any joints around here Cas?”

            He closed his eyes, “uh…yes. There’s a diner four blocks from the diner. They have a bacon buffalo burger the waitress says is the best in the state.”

            “Buffalo eh? Never had one of those….” Dean mused as he began to drive. “So Cas, where are you set up?”

            If he was tipsy before, it vanished with that question. He was hoping that Dean would be gone already when he went on his ‘date’. He didn’t want Dean to know that he was still homeless, not only because of shame, but also because it would just confirm to Dean how pathetic he actually is. However, he had no way of escaping right now and Dean might appreciate the truth. Might. He looked out the window when he answered, “I’ve been living in the back to the store.”

            “WHAT!?!” Dean nearly yelled at him. “You mean to tell me that these past couple of weeks you’ve been sleeping at your work?” When he didn’t say anything, he heard Dean hit the steering wheel, “god dammit Cas. Why didn’t you tell me?”

            “Because I thought it wasn’t your concern. And….” he took a breath, “and I didn’t want to burden you.” He continued to look out the window because he didn’t want to see the look on Dean’s face. There was no need to though, he felt the frustration emanating from the hunter.

            Nothing was said though, a tense quiet fell between them. He did hear the other man open his mouth only to close it again. In the back of his mind he knew that alcohol was a depressant and those dark sad feelings of pity, shame and worthlessness came over him. He endangered an innocent child of a friend and his best friends life. The very reason why he left the bunker was proven true. He is a danger to those around him. Maybe it was better that Ephraim claimed him and ended his sorry excuse of existence.

            So lost was he in his despair that he was only shaken out of it by the slamming of Dean’s door. Focusing on what was actually outside, he saw that he was at the cheap hotel he had stayed in before. What was he doing here?

           

* * *

 

If Cas was going to go a pity party, he can at least do it in a place he can call his own. For a while at least. That much he can do. _‘Fuck, you knew this was going to happen,’_ he chided himself. _‘Kicking Cas out was only go to end up with him on the street almost dead again.’_ Cas wasn’t the only having his own conscience remind him how much he had screwed this up. Unlike Cas though, he can do something about it.

            So he drove around, looking for a motel to crash in for the night. When he spotted one that seemed fairly close to the Gas-N-Sip he parked and got out. Walking into the office where an teenager was manning a desk, he put down several bills. “How many days can I stay with this much?”

            He must’ve looked angry, well he was, but it appeared to frighten the young man. Gulping, the teen scanned the money quickly, “um….three weeks in a double queen, a month in a single king.”

             “The king, does it have a kitchen?” The teen nodded, “good, put me down in a king for a month.”

            “O..okay sir. Just…uh, fill this out.” He quickly signed the papers, grabbed the key and went back to the car.

            As he walked outside, he saw that Cas had gotten out and was standing beside the car. Walking over to Cas, who was still wobbly on his feet with the sorriest looking face known to man, he saw he needed to ease the tension. He needed them both to relax. “What are we doing here Dean,” Cas asked as he approached.

            “Getting you a place to stay for a while. Here.” He held out the key to Cas who took a moment to realize it was for him. “I got you a room here for a month, that should be enough time for you to find a more permanent place. And if not, well, I’ll come back.”

            Cas shook his head, “Dean…I can’t accept this. I-I don’t deserve it.”

            “Like hell you do Cas. I’m not gonna let you sleep in the back of some closet at a fucking gas station store.”

            His shoulder slouching, Cas looked at the ground, “I’ll…I’ll repay you Dean. I swear-“

            “No way Cas,” he said cutting him off. “You don’t need to do that. This hear…this is what family does. I ain’t gonna let you be homeless Cas, not if I can help it. If I had known, I would’ve given you more money man. You-you deserve better than this.”

            Looking back up, Cas had the saddest puppy dog eyes he had ever seen. Seriously, he could give Sam a run for his money on this. “I…don’t know what to say.”

            “Well, how about we go to the room, order some pizza and get some sleep?” he suggested? It has been a long day for the both of them.

            Cas nodded and looked to the key before heading to the room while he grabbed his overnight bag from the back. Seeing which room Cas went into he followed suit. Upon entering the small dingy, but clean room, he set his bag down and picked up the flyer for the food around town. Making a call to a local pizza shop that was still open, he looked over at his friend.

            The former angel sat on the edge of the only bed looking at the TV which he had turned on. Already he had tilted his head in curiosity from the show so he looked at the screen himself. It was rerun of a _Twilight Zone_ episode from the looks of it, the old school one. He’d seen most of them by virtue of growing up in motels like this. At least Cas is occupied other then feeling sorry for himself. “Hey, I’m gonna take a shower. Pizza should be here in about thirty. That alright?” Cas just nodded without looking at him so he took his stuff and headed into the bathroom.

            Once the door was locked, he undressed and ran the water. As he organized his clothes, he realized that Cas didn’t have anything here to change into. What was going to do? Sleep in the buff? For that matter, where was _he_ going to sleep? _‘Nut up Winchester, it’s not like it’s the first time you had to share a bed,’_  he told himself as he stepped into the shower. Last time though…well, that was supposed to be a onetime thing. But he’s man enough to sleep in the chair or in the Impala. And this is totally different. That…that wouldn’t happen again.

 


	4. Chapter 4

            He didn’t want to feel, but he wanted the pain. It kept him grounded, it made him feel alive when he didn’t want to be. Sammy was gone, swallowed by the earth with the two most powerful angels into a prison for all eternity. And who was left for him here? Bobby is dead no more than ten feet from him and bits of Cas were all over the place.

            His one duty, his one and only purpose was to take care of Sam. It was him that carried Sam to safety from the fire, it was him who bore the brunt of their dad’s anger when Sam left. It was him who sacrificed everything right down to his very soul to keep his baby brother safe. And for what? To find that it wasn’t enough, that Sam was now stuck being a meatsuit for the devil. So there he sat, aching from his wounds, bleeding, swollen with nothing to live for, nothing to do but stare at the dead grass in a forgotten cemetery in Kansas. 

            There was no way to tell how much time had passed, but he heard a small rustle of feathers behind him. Turning his entire torso so he can look with his one good eye, he saw it was Cas. Disbelief crashed over him. “Cas…you’re alive?”

            Cas looked at him pity, “I’m better than that,” the angel said softly as he raised his hand. A gentle touch on his forehead and tingling feeling spread threw him driving out his physical pain. ‘ _How…how can this be?’_ he thought as he got up. “Cas…are you God?”

            “That's a nice compliment. But no. Although, I do believe he brought me back. New and improved.” Going over to Bobby, he say his father figure also rise up whole and just as confused as him.

            “What the hell?” Bobby asked looking around, “I was sure I was a goner back there.” He looked at Dean, “what happened Dean?”

            He looked at the rings in his hand now and then to the ground where the hole was. “He did Bobby…Sam…he fought Lucifer and won.”

            “So where is he?”

            “He….he,” he stammered before taking a breath, “Sam took him and Michael into the cage with the rings.” He looked at Bobby, “he did it. He saved the whole damned world.” Bobby opened his mouth in a silent ‘oh’ while Cas just slowly nodded.

            They didn’t say much after that. There wasn’t much to say at all. He and Bobby just parted after the old man said he needed to get back home to let everyone else know what happened. So it was just him and Cas, in the Impala driving out of the Lawrence heading nowhere in particular. He didn’t mind the company, he didn’t mind anything actually. Part of him just died that day and he felt…hollow.

            So what if he found a bar somewhere between who knows and who cares. He did the only thing any sane person would do when filled with a hole in their lives. They tried to fill it and yeah, alcohol isn’t going to do it, but he can sure as hell try. And Cas was here so if he happened to die of alcohol poisoning, Cas can heal him.

            So he drank. And he drank a lot. Over the years, he built a heavy tolerance but tonight, boy tonight he pressed beyond his limit. For a while there, he couldn’t recall what he did in the bar. He never asked.  Nor does he want to know. What he does remember is what happened afterward.

            It was night now, but only around midnight according to the insanely bright red clock read on the bed stand. He was in a bed, fully clothed but still very much buzzed. His jaw was sore as if someone had punched him again. Rubbing his eyes, he looked around. It was pretty much you’re run of the mill crappy cheap motel. “Huh…where the hell am I?” he asked from a parched throat.

            “In a motel Dean. You passed out earlier during a confrontation at the bar and I brought you here.”

            “Cas?” he asked trying to find the source of the voice. Finding it at the foot of the bed he was in, he moved so he can sit upright. “Is there anything to drink here?”

            “I believe you have imbibed enough alcohol Dean,” Cas said sternly. “I do not think Sam would appre-”

            “You shut up about what Sam wanted!” he shouted feeling the anger flare up at the mention of his brother’s name. “Sam isn’t here anymore…Sammy…” and as hot as his anger was, it was drowned out by the crushing loneliness. “Oh god…Sam,” he whispered shrinking upon himself. Were those tears? Was…was he crying?

            The bed shifted and felt Cas move closer to him. Sniffling, he looked at his one friend, his best friend. No, Cas was more than that now. He is the only other person to die…to die for _him._ Twice. Only family did that…but Cas ain’t blood but is family still. Cas…Cas loved him as much as Sam or Bobby.

            But he needed to know more than that. He needed something to feel that gaping hole of pain in him now.  When Cas touched his arm to offer his support, he looked at those inhumanly blue eyes and felt the need to _feel_. He needed to feel something other than his pain, his loss and take comfort in the arms of someone who loved him.

            Maybe it was all the drinks or just the plain circumstances of the moment, but he pulled Cas closer to him and kissed him. He squeezed his eyes shut to hide his tears, just wanting to feel the warmth of another body, to feel _alive_ again. So he deepened the kiss, no matter that the stubble was weird to feel.

            And Cas? Cas had to be shocked for sure at first, because there was no response. But as he went leaned more onto the angel, he felt Cas begin to work with him. It was tentative at first, like he was unsure, but as he leaned further in, pushing Cas onto the bed, both of them started to move faster.

            “Dean…” the angel said slowly as he broke the kiss.  And at the sound of that gravelly voice, that very _male_ voice, he snapped back.

            “Oh shit….shit….” he exclaimed scooting back from the clearly well kissed Cas. ‘ _What the fuck!/More!’_ were the two thoughts fighting in his mind. Did he just… _make out_ with a dude? A dude angel!?! A dude angel that’s basically family?!? “Fuck,” he hissed through clenched teeth and closed eyes embarrassed at what he was doing.

            “Do you want to Dean?” asked Cas still horizontal on the bed. Slowly, he opened his eyes. Seeing he had his attention, Cas continued, “I am…not adverse to continuing.” And from his position, Cas was honest because he had never seen the angel so relaxed, but there was something else about him as well. Something that transcended description, it was like…a closeness that made it seem okay. This is okay.

            Only that it wasn’t, he may be drunk be he isn’t _that_  drunk. “Cas,” he said shaking his head, “I…it’s not right.”

            The bed shifted again as Cas got up, but not out of the bed. Instead, he felt Cas come closer to him. “God, and I, are indifferent to sexual orientation Dean. And,” Cas put his hand on his check, making him look at him directly, “I am not willing to lose you to despair Dean. Not after all that you have done…not for what you have sacrificed. I will not lose you Dean.” The tone in his voice was soft but firm.

            The warmth from the hand on his check comforted him and he leaned into it. Cas cared, and not just cared. He _cared_ about him. Failure as he was, Cas still cared for him. Even after all the evil he had done both in and out of Hell, Cas cared. That was a kindness he did not expect from such a stoic creature. It was too much kindness, more than he deserved. But in those blue eyes, he saw that it wasn’t about him deserving it, Cas was _giving_ it to him, regardless what he thought. And that, that made him feel that hole grow a tiny bit smaller.

            So he also reached out, and brushed Cas’s check. He’s never been into dudes, let alone actually had sex with one, but this wasn’t some guy. This was Cas. The angel who rebelled, died and fell for them. _For him._ And yes, he cared for the guy too, even if he was a dick sometimes. And speaking of, he felt his own interested in what’s happening.

            Leaning forward, he gently placed his lips on Cas, a simple kiss to acknowledge his gratitude. And for a guy who’s never kissed before, Cas was actually pretty good before it ended when he rested his head against Cas’s. If this was going down, and he definitely wanted it to go down, he didn’t want to mess this up either. “Dude…I’m kinda drunk, and I’m feeling out of whack, but you’re…you’re making it bearable Cas. I-I’ve never done this before and I don’t want to use yo-”

            Cas drew back a bit so he can lift his head. “Dean, you’re not using me. I’m helping you. That’s what friends do right?”

            He was going to say something about what friends do isn’t exactly this, but he found that Cas had covered his mouth with his. Again he found himself lost in the sensation, pushing Cas back down to assert his dominance but gentle too because in the back of his mind, he remembered that this was Cas’s first time. While he was pushing down, Cas moved his hands to divest himself of his coat while his own hands went to undo the ever crooked tie.

            They didn’t go fast, they took their time. For now, there was no rush, there was only feeling. And he might be tipsy, but he’s a pro. It’s about enjoying their time. And for him, he never thought he could get turned on by a firm chest and a treasure trail. He’d never imagined how it felt to have another erect dick rub against his own.

            And Cas, Cas was amazing. He made sure that this was good for him too. So he never jerked off another dude, but he knew what to do. He went slow, showing the angel what the human body had to offer. He found places on Cas that made the angel gasp and moan. In return, Cas used his hands to knead out the tension, the anger and the misery out of him. He let this long fingers and strong arms work over him, every part of him to the point he was so blissed out, he had to take charge from Cas.

            In his experience, he doesn’t know a mutual jack off could count as sex. But they both came so hard, he didn’t care. For that time, he was free from everything. All his troubles, all his pain. It was just him and Cas, panting against each other sweat covered and smelling of sex. As a post-coital haze began to take over, he threw an arm over the angel and held tight to him as he began to cry.

           

* * *

 

            The water was tepid at best as he washed the dirt off him. That night after Stull, Cas was there to take care of him. To comfort him when he was at his lowest. If Cas hadn’t…he doesn’t want to think what he would have done. It’s maybe the reason why he doesn’t regret it. Sure, he asked Cas to never tell a soul about it, but wasn’t because he was embarrassed. No, this was something that was between him and Cas and no one else.

            Just like tonight. It’s just him and Cas except the roles are reversed. No, he wasn’t about to get his rocks off with Cas. He was going to hold his friend tight and make sure he isn’t lost in his own despair. It was about being there. And sometimes, that’s what makes all the difference.

            While Dean was taking a shower, he just sat and watched the television. It must be an old show since it was in black and white, but the story was interesting. Or, he assumed it was since he wasn’t paying much attention to it. Ever since leaving Nora’s, this numbness had pervaded every aspect of his psyche. And going to the bar hadn’t helped like he had hoped. Instead, drinking exasperated this feeling even more.

            Is this what being human truly entails? Or is he a unique case? To many, including his own family, being human is shameful. “They are weak, shortsighted Castiel. Nothing more than a slightly smarter monkey,” Uriel said before they went to Earth years ago. Even when he had his grace slowly erode last time, he hadn’t felt this weak…this pathetic.  How can he be of any use to anyone?

            Hearing the door open to the bathroom he saw Dean coming out with a smile looking refreshed. “Hey Cas, I figured you didn’t have any spare clothes so you can barrow mine. Take a shower, you’ll feel better, I swear.” He took the clothes handed to him and got up. “Don’t take too long though, the pizza should be here soon ‘k?”

            Nodding, he entered the restroom and began to undress carefully. He hadn’t thought about his clothes, or anything else. After folding his pants and shirt, he removed his underwear and socks putting them on top of the folded clothes. Then he looked in the mirror at his vessel, no, his body. He hadn’t had the time to really look at his body now. Jimmy kept his body fit, and he would try to keep it so. Who knows when, if ever he would have his grace returned. Leaning closer, he could see he had what area beneath his eyes were darker and sagged a bit. If he had to say what he looked like, tired would be the word.

            But Dean, was right, a shower did help him feel better. He had to move quickly in the truck stop showers since they was as time limit, but not here. He take his time to scrub down as much as he wanted, even if the water pressure was weak. Drying himself, he put on the shorts and shirt Dean had handed to him and looked in the mirror again. He still had those bags under his eyes, but he looked refreshed now, and more importantly, human.

            Coming back out, Dean was at the small table with a pizza box that was unopened. “Pizza man came when you taking a shower, waited for you though. Got the meat lovers.” Opening a couple bottles of beer that the Impala was always equipped with, Dean handed him one. Smelling the cheese and meat from the pizza, his stomach grumbled again causing Dean to chuckle. “C’mon, sit down before you faint.”

            While he sat down, Dean opened the box and handed him the first slice and then served himself. The proximity of food made him hungrier than he expected and as soon as it was in his hand, he took a bite. It was so good, he took an immediate bite. Through a full mouth, he looked at Dean, “this is really good.” Pizza might be his new favorite food now.

            “Glad you like it. Never had pizza huh?” Dean asked with a grin.

He shook his head no before he swallowed. “No, I haven’t. I’ve usually only eat what is at the store. Nachos, taquitos and burgers. There is a pizza taquito I had last week. But it’s nothing like this. I think pizza might be new favorite food.” To prove the point, he took another huge bite and opened the box to grab another slice.

“Whoa there Cas, there’s lots more out there than just pizza and crappy gas station food. A good BBQ for instance. I know a place in Texas that has the absolute best. Sam bitches when we go there because they don’t have salad, but the ribs? Man, they are awesome.”

“Perhaps. There are many things I want to experience as a human, but I don’t know if I’ll have time. I…I think I might want to try to regain my grace.” Retrieving his grace would solve many problems, not to mention he can be useful again. He bit off another piece before he looked over a Dean who had stopped chewing midway.

“About that Cas,” Dean said as he put his pizza down. “Sam called earlier.” A twisted uneasy feeling arose in his stomach, making him pause from eating anymore. The look on Dean’s face was one of pity and worry. He gulped at the apprehension as Dean went on, “Sam and Kev are looking at the angel tablet, trying to find a way to undo the spell Metatron did. Thing is…there isn’t a way.”

A cold shock gripped him.  So many questions ran through his head that he was figuring out what to say. What to ask. What to do. Finally, he unclenched his jaw. “And…what about my grace?”

Taking a deep breathe, Dean stood up and had his back to him. The man had one hand on his hip while the other ran down his face. He knows this posture from Dean. He knew it all too well. Dean only does that when he has bad news to give and is steeling himself to give it. “I’m sorry buddy…but,” Dean turned to him, “it’s gone. Burned up in the spell.”

He’ll never be an angel again was the first thing he thought.  He will never again take flight, never heal or smite. Prayers to him will forever be unheard. Worse, now he had not hope and he felt that hole in him grow only deeper, darker. There was tumult of emotions in him that he was paralyzed. All he could say was, “oh.” Shock, he was going into shock. His heart was racing and his muscles were tense.  

            Dean kneeled in front him, grabbing his hands to offer support. “I…I’m not going to lie Cas. This ain’t alright, and its fucked up and unfair. But we’re here- _I’m_ here for you Cas. We’ll get through this. You hear me?”

* * *

           

He heard. Some part of him was humbled that Dean was here, thankful even. Most of him though was torn between violent anger and endless tears. Then he suddenly felt tired, so very tired. “I think…I think I should lie down,” he said quietly as he tried to get up. But his strength was sapped. It was Dean who basically carried him to the bed.

            It was nice to have an actual mattress beneath him, and he let himself sink into it. The pillow was starched, but clean and fluffy. As he closed his eyes, not to shut out the light, but to hold in the tears, he felt warm hands on his back. Unsure what it meant, he turned over to see Dean under the covers with him in the same bed. “Dean…what are you-” he whispered. Dean didn’t answer, but instead pulled him closer with one arm while the over ran soothing motions over his back. The heat radiating from Dean, his scent, hands and presence calmed him. Closing his eyes again, he bowed his head into Dean’s chest as he finally let the tears roll down.

* * *

           

The following morning he was wakened by Cas’s alarm clock on his phone. Since it was closest to him, he blindly grabbed it and quickly turned it off. He was tired, but looking at the still sleeping man beside him, he knew Cas had a rougher night than he did and deserved to sleep a little bit more.

            He is the last person to help others with their own emotional troubles. Men don’t talk about their emotions, at least that is what their dad told them. Men _act_ on their emotions instead of talking about them he said. It worked for dad, and he had too, well, mostly. Sam, of course, was all for talking and being in touch with his feelings. His brother said that bottling up his emotions is actually unhealthy and if he kept them in, they would come out violently and when he least wanted them too. The nature of their lives afforded them a means of purging emotions not available to many.

            And that worked for him, most of the time at least. The only times his control was lost was with Famine and when Sam went into the hole. Sure, he shed a tear here and there, cause, you can’t control everything. But that deep dark feeling, of being alone, worthless or helplessness…he knows what it feels. Cas had seen that in him, seen him at his lowest. And Cas was there to make sure he held on, long enough for him to regain control.

            Maybe that’s why it doesn’t feel weird to have Cas right next to him. Holding onto him like an he was a lifeline. In a sense, he is. Last time they had sex, and not very good one really, but that wasn’t the point. The point was to not feel alone and for him, that manifested in making out. For Cas apparently, it just meant spooning with him. So was it weird? No doubt, but he gladly would do it for family…for Cas.

            A half hour later, he and Cas were ready for the day. He just woke Cas up after he had dressed and had cold pizza for breakfast. Cas didn’t say anything, but he didn’t expect him to. Between them, they just knew this is something that was between them. Worry and pain still emanated from Cas, but not as badly as it had the night before. Some good rest, and a good cry he guessed, was enough to get Cas functional.

            Pulling up to the gas station, he looked over at Cas. ‘Listen, Cas … Back at the bunker, I, uh... Sorry I told you to go. I know it's been hard on you, you know, on your own and everything. Well, you're adapting. I'm proud of you.  I really am.”

            “Thank you Dean…and thank you for last night. I…I am sorry that you had to endure a chick flick moment.”

            He waved his hand at Cas, “it’s nothing Cas. You were there for me. And…well, I’m the one who should be sorry. This is just…wouldn’t have happened if I had told you to go.”

            “No Dean, there is no need for apologize. You were right. If Ephraim or another Rit Zien had noticed me in the bunker, I would have compromised its location. I understand that.” Cas sighed, “but the angels do need help. And I have to ask myself, can I sit this one out?”

            He shook his head, “Me and Sam will take care of the angels. You're human now.”

            “Yes, but even so Dean, I am not useless. You yourself said that you’re only human and look at what you have accomplished.” Cas said resolutely and correctly. Yeah, he had said that didn’t he. But its not a good time right now though…though it ever rarely is.

            “Okay, you got a point there Cas. But look, for now, lay low. We’ll try to figure out how to work this. Kevin has the tablet and Sam and I will look. Can’t do that if we have to keep looking over our shoulder. But I promise you man…we’ll work it out.”

            Cas mulled it over for a moment before he sighed again. “I suppose you’re right Dean. I’ll remain ‘low’ as you put it.” He pushed the door open before he stopped and looked back at him. “And thank you Dean…for last night. I…it made me feel better.” Cas smiled at him with sad eyes and before he had a chance to respond, Cas already had closed the door. Not wanting to make a scene, he just waved as he started driving away as soon as Cas was inside.

            Back on the road heading home, he put on his tunes and enjoyed the freedom of the road.

 


	5. Chapter 5

After the hunt with Jody, he was dead tired.  He wanted to just take a break from doing endless research, worrying about his brother being possessed, demons and well, everything. Seems his life the past couple of years has been an endless roller coaster. The only period of time when he wasn’t fighting for his life was when he was Lisa. As he flopped onto his bed, he wondered how she and Ben were doing. The pain of letting them go still stung, but time has lessened it. Lisa, Ben and him made a family when they were together, up until the end. He had his taste of the American dream, the normal life that he had given everything for. In hindsight though, he questioned if he was actually happy. Content yeah, but _happy_?

            Why did he go back to Lisa then? It wasn’t because she was his one true love and that Ben _might_ be his son. He loved Lisa as a boyfriend should have. Was a father to Ben because the kid needed one. But that was it really.  No, he went back because it was his promise to Sam. To get out of the hunter’s life and have a family, and Lisa was his best chance for that. Sometimes, he wonders if Lisa actually truly loved him or was it pity that moved her.

            In any case, his bond to them wasn’t nearly as strong as it was toward Sam, Bobby or Cas. Sam’s his brother, Bobby was basically his father and Cas..well, Cas is his best friend. Without them, he felt lost, did feel lost at Lisa’s. Unknown to him at the time was that Sam was alive but soulless, Bobby was doing his own shtick and Cas was up in Heaven.  He knew Sam didn’t care where he was at the time, but Bobby did, he just didn’t want to intrude on his new life. Cas on the other hand…what did Cas do other than make deals with Crowley?

            “Wait…”he murmured to himself as he pushed himself off the bed. He can have that answered with the stuff Charlie swiped from Becky. Burrowing into the drawer, he pulled out the memory stick.  “Now what was the name of that book”,” he wondered as he plugged it into his laptop. Remembering he clicked on the one titled ‘The Man Who Would Be King’.

 

* * *

 

            “You know, I've...I've been here for a very long time. And I remember many things. I remember being at a shoreline, watching a little grey fish heave itself up on the beach and an older brother saying, ‘don't step on that fish, Castiel. Big plans for that fish.’  I remember the Tower of Babel...all 37 feet of it, which I suppose was impressive at the time. And when it fell, they howled 'divine wrath'. But come on - dried dung can only be stacked so high. I remember Cain and Abel...David and Goliath...Sodom and Gomorrah. And, of course, I remember the most remarkable event- remarkable because it never came to pass. It was averted by two boys, an old drunk and a fallen angel. The grand story.  And we ripped up the ending and the rules...And destiny...leaving nothing but freedom and choice. Which is all well and good, except... Well, what if I've made the wrong choice? How am I supposed to know? I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you my story. Let me tell you everything.”

 

            I flew to Dean when he was one the road heading to Omaha. Checking in with the elder Winchester had become a habit of mine, one that I did not know was indeed a habit. To say as to why is difficult, but Dean and I have a deeper connection, a bond. One that is stronger than Sam’s or Bobby’s. Seeing that he was alone, I transitioned myself onto the earthly plane beside him. “Hello Dean. Are you all right?”

            Dean gripped the steering wheel tighter in surprise but kept his face passive before he turned to grin at my appearance. “Hey….yeah, I’m fine. Uh…how are you?”

            “Just wanted to check in.” Which was true, just not for the purpose Dean thought. Lying to him had by this time taken its toll.

            Nodding slightly before turning back onto the road, he asked “so, any word on Satan Jr. being alive?”

            “I’m…looking, believe me.” To which I truly hoped he did. “I just don’t understand how Crowley could’ve tricked me.”

            “Well, he's a tricky son of a bitch, that's how. Doesn't matter. But if he is up and kicking, then what does matter is finding him, ripping his head off, and shoving it up his ass.” Dean licked his lips like he relished the thought of doing the beheading himself. Sometimes I wonder if Dean has overly violent tendencies.

            “What about you? Have you found anything?” This was the true nature of my visit, to gauge how much information that the brothers have found. At this time, I still had their trust, Dean’s trust.

            “Naw, nothing yet,” Dean said easing my apprehension.

            A silence settled between us, something that had been happening more and more between un. “Where’s Sam,” I asked though I knew exactly where he was.

            “He's keeping busy. He's tracking a Djinn in Omaha as we speak. In fact, I'm heading out there right now to meet up with him.”

            “Well…I’d come if I could.”

            Dean shook his head, “yeah, no. I-I get it. You’ve got shit to do.” Turning his back to face me, I could see the concern in his eyes, “but Cas, you’ll call right? If you get into real trouble?”

            “Of course,” I lied before I flew away to Crowley.  The sterile smell coupled with the stench of monster entrails was truly gruesome smell, if I were human. Instead, it was mild irritation at best, one easily ignored. Pushing open the doors, there stood the demon I made a deal with hands deep in Eves cranium.

            “Howdy partner,” Crowley said with fake humor.

            “What have you found?” I asked, worried about what I might hear.

            “I've found a lot of things. For example...Eve's brain? Dead as a tinned kipper. And yet..” he pulled out some black substance from the brain, “for some reason...She keeps laying eggs. Now watch this.” Taking a poker, he inserted into brain, which made the vampire behind him squirm in pain. “Chocula there feels every tickle.” He did it again with a smile before he put the poker down.

            “What good is that for?”

            “Apart from the erotic value, you got me,” the demon shrugged as he pulled off his gloves.

            “You said Eve could open the door to Purgatory,” I asked stepping toward Crowley.

            “Correct. I did. And I'm confident that she could have if she was still alive! Single best chance to get over the rainbow, and the Winchesters killed her!” He threw down the gloves in disgust onto the floor.

            “It was unavoidable.”

            Crowley shook a finger at me before he stepped toward me, angrily poking me with it. “You screwed up, Cas. You let the hounds mangle the pheasant, and now I am up to my elbows in it.”

            Brushing him off, I smoothed my clothes, “what is your point?”

            “The point is...You're distracted, and that makes me nervous.”

            I didn’t understand why he would be nervous but his attitude was annoying. “I am holding up my end,” I replied.

            “Ah, yes. But is that all you're holding? See...the stench of that Impala's all over your overcoat, Angel. I thought we'd agreed - no more nights out with the boys.”

            “I spoke to Dean, yes. I needed to know what they know.”

            “About what? About me, maybe?” the demon asked obviously knowing we both knew the answer. “Cause I happen to have it on good authority that your two little pets are currently trying to hunt me down! Forgive me, but I think you might have a little conflict of interest here.”

            And Crowley had a point in that I was conflicted in my interests. I still consider myself the Winchesters guardian. After all…they were the ones who showed me how to stand up. It was Dean who gave me the strength the question the plans of Heaven I so blindly followed. In that room while Sam was heading to kill Lillith that Dean pleaded to follow my ‘instinct’ for the first time. That exercise of free will lead to obliteration by Raphael directly afterward, but God put me back together.

            At first, I had faith that that was a sign from my father to find him and to help the brothers. And so I did, even though I was cut off from Heaven, I persevered. And when I lost faith in God, I kept it in Sam and Dean, those two never did give up. Even when Dean almost did, I fought him like he fought with me to do what is right. And so we continued, even till the very end when Lucifer tore me apart, I had no doubt this was the right thing to do.  So they taught me what to stand for…and what happens when you do.

            So I died. Again. Destroyed by another older brother, I was again nothing. I was...done. I was over. And then the most extraordinary thing happened. I was put back. And we had won. As I a stood behind Dean as he stared at the dry piece of grass, I knew what happened. We had stopped the Apocalypse…but a terrible cost. To do the right thing sometimes carried a cost to great to bear, and it broke Dean, just as hell would surely break Sam.

            And so I knew what I had to do next. Once again, I went to the harrows of Hell, to free Sam from Lucifer's cage. It was nearly impossible, but I was so full of confidence, of mission. I had once saved the righteous man, surely I can save his brother as well.  I see now that was arrogance...Hubris...Because, of course, I hadn't truly raised Sam -- not all of him. Sometimes we're lucky enough to be given a warning. When Sam didn’t go immediately back to Dean, I should have known something was not right. That should have been mine.

            The sound of the poker being wetly yanked back brought my attention back to the present. I looked at Crowley as he studied my reaction to his accusation. His accurate accusation. “Please, I’m begging you Castiel. Just kill them.”

            “No,” I snapped back.

            Crowley shrugged, “Fine. Then I’ll do it myself.”

            “If you kill them, I'll just bring them back again.”

            “No, you won't. Not where I'll put 'em. Trust me.”

            “I said…NO,” I commanded. I might be lying to Dean and Sam, but I will never put them in a position of harm. Not if I could help it. Turning from the demon, “don’t worry about them.”

            “Don't worry about -- what, like Lucifer didn't worry? Or Michael? Or Lilith or Alastair or Azazel didn't worry?! Am I the only game piece on the board who doesn't underestimate those denim-wrapped nightmares?!” shouted Crowley.

            Growing tired of this pointless debate, I turned back to Crowley. “Just find Purgatory. If you don't, we will both die again and again, until the end of time. The Winchesters won't get to you.”

            “Let them get to me! I'll tear their friggin' hearts out!” Crowley threatened as I flew out.

* * *

 

            The next couple of chapters were from his or Sam’s perspective. He didn’t know that Cas could go invisible but it made sense. How else could he have overheard the Superman comment. The chapter in Heaven reinforced his notion that Raphael was just a big dick and was glad he was gone. It did make him question why angels had such a hard time figuring out free will though. Was it something that only a couple angels could handle? The only ones independent he had known of were Gabriel, Anna and Balthazar besides Cas. He continued skimming until one chapter caught his eye.

 

* * *

 

            Upon my entrance to the lab I was ready to unleash holy wrath up Crowley for attempting to kill my friends. The air was charged with my fury of Crowley moving against them which constituted a move against _me._ At this point, I don’t know if it was my hubris or my loyalty that motivated me. “You sent demons after them?!?!”

            If Crowley was scared, he didn’t show it. “You kill my hunters. Why can't I kill yours?”

            “They’re my friends,” I growled.

            “Tsk tsk Cas,you can't have friends, not anymore. I mean, my God. You're losing it!”

            And he was right, I was but I was too vain to notice. “I’m fine.”

            “Yeah. You're the very picture of mental health. Come on. You don't think I know what this is all about?” Crowley snickered.

            “Enlighten me.”

            “The big lie -- the Winchesters still buy it. The good Cas, the righteous Cas. And long as they still believe it, you get to believe it. Well, I got news for you, kitten. A whore is a whore is a whore.”

            Again, Crowley was right. I realize that now. But at the time, I wanted to continue to live in that lie. “I'm only gonna say this once. If you touch a hair on their heads, I will tear it all down. Our arrangement -- everything. I'm still an Angel, and I will bury you,” I threatened, emptily because there was no going back now.

            When Raphael gave me the ultimatum, I knew I couldn’t win. He was stronger than me and he would destroy me and everything that Dean and Sam had done to save the world. Raphael threatened that. But what was I to do?

            So I went to an old friend for help. I watched Dean rake the leaves in the small yard at the place he called home now. He had a family now, living a life he had professed that was the ‘apple pie life’. The last I had spoken to Dean was after out brief time together, before I returned to Heaven. He had prayed, but now his prayers were few and far between. From what I could tell, he was happy. Now I needed his help. Everything he sacrificed, and I was about to ask him for more.

            But watching him, I stopped. Who was I to take him away from his new life? Dean had given everything, down to his very soul, to do the right thing. In the end, it cost him everything. He deserved this happiness, this quiet life. In his position, I understood the appeal. Even an angel can tire of fighting, the endless fighting and death. No, Dean deserved this and it will have to be me. _I_ would need to be the one to fight in his stead, because that is the least I could do.

            He looked up from the screen, knowing how this story ended. He remembered that night when they trapped Cas in that ring of holy oil. Seeing Cas actually _frightened_  not because of the fire, but of the truth that was yet still hidden had almost made him stomp out the fire. This was Cas…the angel that saved him, died for them…the only person to see him at his weakest, and shit, the only guy he’d _been_ with. The amount he owed Cas could never be repaid. He _trusted_ him, more than he had with Sam or Bobby.

            So when he asked Cas to level with him, to tell him the truth and he got it, he couldn’t believe it. That trust was shattered and it hurt. God damn did it hurt. It hurt as bad as when dad or Sam died. But it was worse because the source of that hurt was still here. So he fought back the tears as he and Cas argued, not because he was mad, he was, but he wanted to know _why._

            And now he does. This is basically ancient history, but that night was a turning point for the both of them. The effects of it are still reverberating to this day. He... can’t, no won’t trust anyone as deeply as he had Cas before ever again. It was also the start of Cas’s descent into madness and eventual redemption complex. But it started it because Cas wanted to protect him, to make him happy. To give him his just reward and peace. That’s why he brought Sam back, why he never did ask him when he could have, why he never answered those prayers.

            Closing the laptop, he laid down on the bed. Was he now guilty of the same thing? Wanting to have Cas live a ‘normal’ life when all of this is happening?  He could not protect Cas any better than Cas did back then. This life, crappy and bloody as it is, _is_ their life. There is no escaping it. And right now, he could really use Cas. Not just as an ally, but as a friend.

            But he needs to come clean. Cause if he doesn’t, then something worse is going to happen. This thing with Ezekiel is feeling more and more wrong with each passing day. Yes, it’ll put Sam at risk…but to save Sam, he’ll risk it all. For now though, he’ll bide his time until he can get a chance.

 

           

* * *

 

 

 

           

 

Ever since he and Dean solved the case about the Rit Zien, he really couldn’t return to pretending to live a normal life. Too much of what had happened was directly because of him. Be it by his action or inaction, someone out there was going to be hurt or killed because of what he did. So work didn’t seem as appealing, being human wasn’t appealing actually, not when he used to be so much more.

            Yet, after Dean hold told him his grace was gone for good, what was going to hope for? Each angel had an individual frequency of grace, another’s cannot substitute his own. Another grace would burn him out, eventual leading to his death. It’s still hard to accept that it’s gone, and it hurt, this empty feeling of being _less._ However, what good is it for him to mourn something he can never have again? Just as Dean let out his emotions after the Apocalypse, he let his own out. Now he’s ready to do more than just hide.

            Still, there had to be fundamental necessities for him to continue living. He doesn’t possess the knowledge to scam people or commit credit card fraud, so he had to work. Every spare dollar he saved, and when he thought he had enough, he bought a new suit, bag and shoes. Going to the library, he read the news, scanned the internet and browsed the occult section.

            His diligence paid off when he saw the massacre in nearby Wyoming. He hugged Nora goodbye, packed up his stuff and went down to crime scene. Once he had a room, he stashed his stuff and headed to the police station. As he walked to the station, he looked at the fake badge Dean had given years before.

            How naïve he had been then. In all of the millennia he had spent watching the Earth, he didn’t know how truly out of his depth he was then. Would have never actually known until he had fully become human himself. Walking up the steps, he smiled as he remembered how that case went. Especially when Dean straightened his tie for him. It seemed curious of Dean, in hindsight, was always the one who decries his personal space when he in fact does it as much as he did.

            Flashing his badge at the first person in uniform he saw, he found himself directed to the investigators office. “Agent Smith, FBI,” he announced as he entered the small office, “I’m here to investigate the murders in the roadhouse.” He flashed his badge again for good measure.

            The lone man at the desk looked tired and just shrugged, “and what does the FBI have a stake in this crap?”

            He was prepared for that question. “We believe that the perpetrators may be connected to other out of state murders.” Anything crossing state lines would basically mean the federal government would get involved he read. Hopefully the investigator would buy it. The man shrugged standing up and put on his coat, “that’s what we are thinking too. Need a lift to the scene?”

            “Uh, yes,” he said surprised that it worked so easily. No more than thirty minutes later, he found himself at the scene. Let in, he looked around and saw the violence between his siblings was truly horrific. His heart felt heavy again, but he couldn’t let it show. Instead, he walked over to one of the scientists and began to go over any details of the case when he saw a familiar mop of hair.

            Seeing both Sam and Dean was not unexpected but it made him happy that they were here now. Sam seemed equally enthused but Dean had a scowl on his face. That didn’t damper his attitude though. Smiling he nodded to the brothers, “ah, my colleagues.”

            “Agent,” Sam smiled with humor.

            “Agent,” he replied with a grin. Sam widened his own while Dean looked upset but he could tell in his eyes that he was relieved. Still, he could sense that his presence had startled Dean and that’s something the man would never admit to hating.

            “Cas. What the hell are you doing?”

            “Um…” Dean nearly hissed at him. The man did say for him to lay low and this is the exact opposite. There wasn’t a point to lie, so he stepped around the question. “I still have the badge you gave me.”

            Again, he could sense that Dean was surprised but didn’t show it. “Yeah, but what the hell are you doing?” the man still asked.

            “The murders were all over the news. I thought I should be of help,” he answered. It was after all his fault for all of this.

            **“** Yeah, but Cas, you know that this is an angel situation, right? I mean, you left that night because angels were on your ass.” From his tone, Sam seemed both confused and concerned.      

            He looked over at Dean who pointedly looked away for a second. Before he could answer, Dean beat him to it. “Yeah, and you were living the life, you know? Early retirement, working your way up the Gas-n-Sip ladder,” Dean spoke a little too fast and deeper than usual.

            Pondering what was making Dean uncomfortable, he looked over at Sam to answer his question. “If angels are slaughtering one another, I have to do what I can to help. It is a risk _we_ should be willing to take, don't you think?” Sam made a face that told him he agreed. That made him proud, so he smiled at Dean, “hey. Cas is back in town,” he smiled hoping to ease the tension.

            It worked because Sam actually laughed while Dean seemed in shock. “Seriously, did you…Sam, did he just..”

            Sam grinned as he patted him on the shoulder, “yeah Dean, he did.” Changing his posture a moment later, Sam went back into the reason why they all were here while Dean was still recovering. “So what happened here Cas?”

            Stepping closer to one of the bodies, he looked at the mutilated form of his sister. “These angels, uh, they were butchered. Much more violence than was required.”

            “Definitely took more than one or two killers to pull this off.”

            Dean nodded, “you think a hit squad? One of Bartholomew's people?”

            With the Winchesters here, he felt a comfort..a feeling that they can do this. “Well, whoever it is... We'll find them,” he said patting them both on the shoulders.

            Sam smiled at him while Dean seemed off at the idea. _"We'll"_  find them. That's great,” he heard Dean mutter.

* * *

 

            He wasn’t expecting Cas to be there. Sam, or rather Zeke, would not be happy. Not for the first time, he was anxious to get the angel out his brother. He was tired of all these lies he had to tell Sam and to Cas. Deep down though, he was relieved that Cas is here. Maybe now…maybe he can start his little plan in motion.

            When the roadhouse didn’t offer any more clues, Sam thought it would be a great idea to go to the bar and compare notes. Cas seemed enthusiastic about the idea and…,, dammit, happy that he couldn’t say no. So here they were. The three amigos. By rights he should be right down pleased that they’re all here. The thing is, there were _four_ , not three with them.

            “It is so good being together again. I hope it's okay, me joining you?” Cas asked.

            Sam gave the angel a weird look, “why wouldn’t it be?”

            _Crap,_ he thought he needed to steer this another way. “You know, Cas, are you sure you're ready to jump back into all this? I mean, it seemed to me like you'd actually found some peace.” _As in, I wanted you to stay safe,_ he added in his head.

            “You once told me that you don't choose what you do. It chooses you.”

            “Huh?” he said as he tried to think of when he said something like that.

            Cas had a small grin as he lifted his bottle, “I’m part of this,” he said as he clinked their bottles, “like it or not.”

            Sam lifted his bottle in agreement before taking a swig. “All right, well, then, in that case, we have to figure out, uh, who are we up against, what do they want, and how do we stop them.”

            “Well, Bartholomew wants to reverse Metatron's spell. But as we know, that’s not possible.” Cas said as Sam shot him a look of appreciation. He didn’t tell Sam that he told Cas about it. If he had, Sam would’ve been ‘how did he take it’ and ‘is Cas okay?’. Not noticing that, Cas went on, “I would presume that the fractions are vying for control to get a large enough army to retake Heaven. At least, that was what April mentioned.”

            “The reaper you banged?” he asked absently, latching onto the name more than anything else.

            “Yeah, and the one you stabbed.”

            He remembered. He wished he could do it again. “Yeah…she was hot though.”

            Cas nodded with a small glint in his eye, “so hot..and very nice. Until she started torturing me.”

            “Yeah, well, not every hookup is perfect,” he smiled at Cas. Those blue eyes were saying something more to him. Something that, well, he preferred not to think about but couldn’t help smile back. A small cough from his brother broke their little stare though.

            “All right,” Sam said with a look of someone who knows a dirty secret, “I’ll go get us another round.”

            Holding up his arm, Cas stopped him. “Nah, I’ll get it.” Getting off the stool he leaned over to Dean, “You know, I've never done this before.”

            He shook his head as Cas scampered away, “a couple of beers and he’s hammered.” Looking at Sam, he saw the blue flash and rolled his eyes. “Oh boy.”

            “Well, what are you going to do about this?” Zeke asked in Sam’s voice.

            “About Cas?”

            “He is a beacon, Dean, pulling every angel for miles down on our heads.”

            That was a load of crap. He knew the only reason why Ephraim found Cas was because of his pain, which, granted, was freaking huge, but otherwise undetectable. But he didn’t want to tip his hand quite yet. “All right, you know what, Zeke? Level with me. What is it that you're so afraid of?”

            “I told you. When I chose to answer your prayers and heal Sam, I chose sides. That means I'm not in good standing with certain angels.”

            “Okay, well, you know what? Cas isn't in good standing with  _any_  angel, all right? But here he is, ass on the line, fighting the fight. So tell me, what makes you so special?”

            Zeke looked over at Cas then back to him. “You saw what the angels are doing to one another Dean. I cannot heal your brother if I am dead. If we encounter more angels and Castiel or you get injured, I will have to yet again deplete myself to heal. That is an unacceptable risk.”

            He gritted his teeth in anger. Why did he feel _he_ was the one being held hostage? “Okay fine, I’ll try to shake Cas, but I’m telling you Zeke, Cas doesn’t like being sidelined. And remember, he _vouched_ for you. You owe him too.” Looking at his possessed brother, he saw that he scored a hit from Zeke.

            At least Cas returned then halting any more discussion. “Here we go. Three brewskies,” Cas cheerfully said has he but the bottle down.

            Looking pissed, Zeke got to his feet, “I’m going to get something out of the car.”

            “Fine,” he said sharply. With that, Sam/Zeke walked out while Cas sat down looking confused.

            “Is everything all right Dean?”

            “Peachy, Cas, just peachy,” he lied as he took one of the beers and took a deep pull. “Thanks for the drink Cas, hey, I got a question.” It was now or never at this point. Zeke been acting shifty the past couple of days and he wants the lies to end.

            “And I might have an answer,” Cas said trying to be funny. The attempt wasn’t half bad, but he doesn’t have time for this.

            Looking around making sure Sam was out of the building, he leaned a little forward. “Ezekiel. The angel I said that healed Sam. Was he always so…I don’t know, like he had a stick up his ass?”

            Cas looked at him like he was trying to figure out why he asked such a question. “Uh…no. Ezekiel is very friendly and caring. Honorable, humble and a very good fighter. He is one of the best, and brave. He would be the kind of angel to help others and do what is right.”

            All of that didn’t sound like the angel in his brother. A very bad feeling crept up his spine. What if it _wasn’t_ Ezekiel? What if it was some other angel? Then why lie? And what was his angle? Cas placed his hand over his and he looked up, “Dean? Are you alright?”

            Checking the room again, he shook his head. “Actaully Cas, I’m not. And Sam isn’t either.”

            Clearing his throat, “I, um, I noticed you look... kind of uncomfortable whenever Sam mentions my leaving. Doesn't he know that you told me to leave?”

            That was another can of worms for later. Ignoring the question he went to his plan, “here's the deal. When Sam was doing the trials to seal up Hell, it messed him up. Okay? The third one nearly killed him. If I'd let him finish, it would have. He's still messed up, bad.” Skirting the truth is second nature to him, but in this case, he hoped Cas could connect the dots.

            “You said the angel, Ezekiel, helped heal him…but you’re concerned that it wasn’t Ezekiel. But why? Sam looks healthy. He looked healthy when you saved me in Detroit…actually…more than healthy.” _That’s it Cas, you almost got it._ Cas furrowed his brows before he snapped than back at Dean. “Dean…what did you do?”

`           “What I had to Cas,” he replied as he took another drink.

            Cas looked around too, making sure Sam was still out. “So you let an angel possess him Dean? Sam would never consent to that,” Cas said perplexed as he leaned in closer.

            “He didn’t,” he answered in a whisper. “I lied him and Sam doesn’t know. But I thought it was Ezekiel. He was only going to stay until Sam was healed up.”

            “But you’re not so sure now?”

            Nodding, “no, I’m not. I think I might’ve fucked this one up Cas. And I need your help.”

            “Of course. Anything.” How quickly Cas agreed made him smile a bit. Cas is loyal to a fault.

            “I need you to go to the bunker. See if you or Kev have a way to talk to a host when an angel is inside. And I need you to go now.”

             “I understand,” Cas said with determination as they both got up.

              He could tell Cas wanted to ask more questions, but he had he tact to not ask them here right now. Before Cas turned to leave, he grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into an embrace. Surprised again, Cas was slow on the uptake but hugged him back as he turned to Cas’s ear. “I promise to explain everything, but we need to do this first.”

            “Sam comes first, yes…I know,” Cas said with resignation.

            “Thanks Cas. I just need you to trust me on this.” Nodding, Cas took his coat and headed out the back door. If there was a god, he would be praying to him right now hoping he was doing the right thing. He really doesn’t want another fuck up again.

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

            He left the bar through the back that exited out into the alleyway since Sam exited through the front. An uneasy feeling of doubt of what Dean had done filled him this concern. It’s not surprising that Dean had done something incredibly stupid to save his brother. The man has done it before, risking it all to save Sam. At first it seemed illogical, but now, he understood why. Humans are neither logical or rational when it comes to their emotions. Especially ones concerning family and love.

            Stepping out, he stopped in the alcove as he heard a familiar voice. “Relax. I'm not here to out you. But I _am_ curious, why Ezekiel?” he heard Metatron ask someone. Peeking around the corner, he saw both Sam who wasn’t Sam speaking to Metatron. The short man seemed so small compared to the large frame of Sam. Luckily, he was out of their line of sight so he could eavesdrop.

Of course, that is assuming he could control his rage. Hearing that voice incited a violent impulse in him, one that he so wanted to give into. But he couldn’t, not when he could learn something from this exchange. Keeping to the shadow of the small alcove, he listened to Sam who’s not Sam speak. “They say he is a good, and ... honorable angel.” So Dean was right to guess that it wasn’t Ezekiel. It did make him curious as to what happened to the real Ezekiel. 

            “Ahhhh. Everything they say you are not. I see your point... Gadreel.” _Gadreel!_ The angel that started it all! Everything bad that has happened and will happen was because of that angel. He clenched his fists as he fought back the urge to revel himself and exact revenge. Instead, he listened closer. “The stories about me – they are not true!” replied Gadreel defensively.

            “And yet you spent countless thousands of years locked in Heaven's darkest dungeon. And now you're hiding in this human, posing as Ezekiel. Tragic.” There was a pause before Metatron spoke again. “It broke His heart to lock you away, you know? You were God's most trusted. That's why He chose you to protect the garden. Your one task was to keep evil from entering... from befouling His cherished creation, mankind, and you failed Him!”

            “Not my doing,” answered Gadreel in a tense voice. 

            He heard the scribe sigh, “Well, for whatever reason, the serpent entered. The Earth is cursed with evil. Someone had to be blamed.”

            ‘ _What was Metatron trying to get at?’_ he wondered. Obviously Metatron was concocting some story to entice the other angel. “What is it you want of me, Metatron?” asked Gadreel.

            “Just to be your friend. You and I go back a long way. I was actually the one who freed you.”

            “You?”

            “I was the one who caused all the angels to fall. Including the imprisoned ones. You're welcome.” Metatron replied smugly.

            ‘ _At the cost of my grace,’_ he wanted to shout out. Rather, her continued to eavesdrop as Gadreel spoke. “No angels are in Heaven? None at all?”

            “No, and you know, at first, I thought I would love it. But it's a big place. My solitude is getting tedious.” He couldn’t believe his ears, was Metatron trying to play the _victim?_

            “And so?”

            “And so ... Plan ‘B’. Rebuild Heaven as the place God envisioned it, only with a handpicked few. No more anemic functionaries like Bartholomew. And no more stupid angels Well, maybe some funny ones. You were His most trusted, Gadreel. You want to take back your reputation? You want to reclaim the Heaven that was? We could do this together,” Metatron offered smoothly all the while lying.

            This was all he could bear to hear. It sounded so much like him when he went mad with power. Any more time he spent here would surely break his control. As quietly as he could, he opened the door and slipped back inside. It’s too much of a risk to tell Dean what he had found out, but he realized the urgency of the situation.  For the moment, he’ll wait it out until Metatron was gone and then he’ll be on his way.

            The thought of that traitorous angel made him angry, especially since he was trying to recruit Gadreel. Who, was yet another angel who has done grievous harm . Even with all the evil he had done to the world, he cannot be held in the same league as Gadreel. Amongst the host, he was always the one who can be blamed for the start of it all. Gadreel, Guardian of the Garden who let the serpent in. It was because of him that evil existed at in the world. It was because of him that God left.

            It is no wonder that Gadreel wanted him gone and avoid all the other angels. Other than himself, Gadreel would also have no allies or friends among the angels. In fact, he believes that if Gadreel would most likely be killed, or at the very least imprisoned. Sam Winchester is the perfect vessel for him to hide in. No angel or supernatural creature would not want to cross path with the Winchesters unless they were stupid or incredibly powerful. On top of that, there was Dean would do, no, _has_ done everything to protect his brother.

            And for what purpose? To rebuild Heaven? How could he when no angels can enter Heaven. Unless Metatron had a workaround to the spell. If that is the case, then there was hope again for the host. A small hope for certain, but there nonetheless.

            Talking a calming breathe, he again slowly opened the door and peeked outside. Sam and Metatron were gone. Closing it, he did a quick look into the main room. Sam was again sitting with Dean with an unhappy look. Dean must be explaining why he left again. Not wanting to waste this time, he quickly went out the back again.

* * *

 

            He knocked hard on the steel door, hoping loud enough to get the attention of the lone occupant. After several moments, he heard the prophet call out who he was. “It’s me Castiel,” he announced loudly to make sure it travelled through the door. The door remained closed though. “Dean sent me,” he added. Still nothing as the assumed that Kevin was being cautious. “I’m an angel of the lord and you’re a prophet, son of Linda Tran. Last year you were kidnapped by Crowley, twice, and escaped both times. I threatened you before the angels fell to do your job and you did.”

            “Anyone one could tell you that,” he heard through the wall. So Kevin was being very careful, which is good, but not helpful.

            Then he remembered something only they would know. “I bopped your nose the first time we meet.”

            Less than ten seconds later he was in the bunker heading down the stairs. “What brings you back? I thought Dean said you were staying away for our protection,” asked the young man as they came to the landing.

            “Dean sent me,” he repeated, “he has a mission for the both of us.”

            Kevin’s shoulder slumped, “another? I’m already looking at both the angel and demon tablets.”

            “It’s important.”

            “It’s always important. Let me guess, he needed it ASAP?” Kevin asked as he slumped into the chair in the library. “What did they do now?”

            Choosing to sit across from the prophet, he wondered how to word this without letting Kevin know the entire truth. Granted, he didn’t have it either, but surely Dean wouldn’t want to put the kid in jeopardy as well. “It involves the angels. We’re to find a way to speak to the host vessel an angel is possessing whilst the angel is unaware. Possibly expel an angel by force if need be. Dean thought it would be prudent for me to assist.”

            Kevin reclined back as he scratched his thing beard. “Well, I think I actually read something like that a while back.” Leaning forward, he began digging around the mess of papers around him.

            “I know there is some spell to expel an angel by force. A demon once tried it on me before I was rescued. I don’t think Dean wants to go that route unless it is a last resort.” Recalling the encounter with Alistair was not pleasant at all. His grace was being forcibly returned to Heaven against his will. If he been expelled, Jimmy would have surely died shortly after.

            If Kevin heard him, he didn’t respond. After several minutes of watching the prophet working, he got up to put his bag away in his room.  As he opened the door, he was not surprised it looked exactly the same. That was until he sat down on the bed. Curious, he bounced a little on it and found it was softer that he had remembered. Lifting the covers, he found the reason why. The mattress had been replaced recently as the old box spring was gone and in its place was a memory foam one.

            There was only one person who would do such a thing. He appreciated the added comfort, but the quested had to be asked. Why? Why would Dean do this for him? Unless…Dean knew that he would come back here. In his own way, Dean was trying to make it up to him. There were still many questions he wanted answered, but for now, he smiled. It was nice to be part of a family not wanting his head. Taking out his phone, he sent a message.

* * *

           

 _Thank you,_ was all he typed before getting up. Sliding the phone back into his pocket, he headed back out to the library.

            Sam was confused and angry at him even though he swore up and down that he didn’t ask Cas to leave. Even know back in the motel Sam was still yammering about it. “Seriously Dean, what the hell? First Cas was all happy to be with us and then he decides that he needs to go all of a sudden? And when the hell did he leave?”

            “I dunno,” not caring to explain these blackouts to Sam. “You know how he is.”

            “Yeah Dean, I do and I know it’s not like Cas to do something like this.” Sam huffed out, “and this is what I’m talking about. It’s like…I’m checked out for a while. Like yesterday, how’d I lose an hour?”

            He gulped and put on a cheesy smile, “well, if you ate your meat instead of all that green crap, you might remember.”  
           

            Folding his arms with classic bitchface, Sam was not amused. “I’m serious Dean. This whole thing doesn’t seem right. First we go hellbent finding Cas, then he leaves after staying a night, then we run into him again and he runs away? C’mon Dean, that doesn’t add up. And this lost time thing? I don’t know…and that worries me.”

            “What do you want me to do Sam? Go out and beg Cas to stay with us. Go all Memento on you with the tattoos and pictures so you can remember shit?”

            “Yes! Something’s wrong Dean, I can feel it.”

            _And that’s why I’m doing what I can to fix it,_ he thought as he let his smile fall. “This whole thing is messed up Sam. When in our lives have things not been messed up though?” he asked before he knew to shut up. That year Sam took off with Amelia was still too fresh for them both. As he feared, Sam flinched at that as a quiet came between them.

            “You know what, I’m gonna do some research on that biker gang, see what I can find,” Sam announced quietly as he took his laptop out.

            Feeling guilty, he wouldn’t try to harass his brother for the rest of the night. Instead, he popped open another beer and sat down on the bed with his own laptop. As he browsed listlessly, he wondered how much longer he would have to put up with this charade. It felt good to actually be honest with Cas and to have his help to fix this. But when they do, what then? Sam is not going to be pissed, no, Sam is going to be furious. The stuff he said back at the church about them being honest with each other flew out the window the very next day. They’ve kept secrets from each other, but this is a whole new level. And secretly he feared this might be finally breaks the camel’s back in their relationship.

            The nature of their brotherly bond had changed over the years, and as they grew, so did it. When they were kids, he was the caretaker, father and mother to Sam. When they started school, he became that cool kid who watched out for his dork brother. Then Sam left for Stanford and they didn’t speak for four years. That was a rough time for him, but he was newly independent too, and he enjoyed it. And then destiny came knocking and they found themselves back together hunting as adults.

            For a while, it was awesome, then things went downhill real fast when he sold his soul to save Sam. That year he tried to put a distance between then, to prepare Sam for when he was gone. It was futile, but he had to do that. He died and that was supposed to be it. Except that it wasn’t. He came back. Only to find Sam shacking up with a demon addicted to blood and the apocalypse starting. With Lillith dead, they found themselves on the same page again. Both vessels, they had to look out for each other, running from both Heaven and Hell.

            And it was that bond that broke the hold over Lucifer, that allowed Sam to end the apocalypse. His own heart shattered, he did what Sam couldn’t when he died. He tried to live the normal life. Yet, it was all for nothing because Sam was back, soulless but alive. Even after he was fixed, their bond grew strong again, especially when Cas’s betrayal devastated him. It was too much though, and Sam began to lose himself to his broken mind. After he was healed, he and Sam were just getting their lives back to where it was before he was whisked away to Purgatory.

            What Sam did though made sense. It did. Sam had no one left to turn to. He was truly alone with no home, family or friends. Directionless, Sam did what he always wanted. He went to live a normal life. And that hurt. Sam didn’t even lift a finger for him, Cas or Kevin. Instead he ran away. This past year has really tried their relationship, but that night of the church, it was renewed.

            Only for it to last less than a couple of days. To Sam, all was great right now, minus the blackouts and why Cas wasn’t here questions. For all he knew, this was the most stable their relationship had been in years. But it’s foundation was a lie. It is only a matter of time before the shit hit the fan.

 

* * *

 

            “I think I found it,” Kevin announced as he brought the young man a cup of coffee. Taking the cup from his offered hand, Kevin took a moment to breathe and close his eyes before looking up at him. “It’s a blood sigil spell,” Kevin continued sliding a piece of paper to him.

            Taking it as he sat down, he scanned the sigil. “It appears to be similar to an angel banishing sigil.”

            Nodding, “sort of, if the info is right. It should be enough to hobble a possessing angel for a moment or two. Once it’s painted, all you need is to touch your blood to activate the spell.” Kevin leaned forward a bit, “Cas, what is this about?”

            “To be honest, I do not know the specifics,” he said skirting the truth. “All I know is that Sam and Dean need this information.” Getting up so he can get his phone, “and since we have it now, I’ll go ahead and call Dean and let him know. I believe Dean would say ‘trust us’ on this.”

            “I _do_ trust you guys. It’s just…well, we somehow always get screwed. Or at least I do.”

            He could see the tiredness in the prophet, how this life has taken everything he knew and destroyed it. “I understand, but remember Kevin, I did _not_ trust them when it came to Metatron and see where that lead us. If I had, then the situation would’ve been different. I may still have my grace, and…” the thought of his grace made him remorseful. There was a understanding quiet between them for a moment before he went on. “I should call Dean.”

            “Yeah,” Kevin murmured before looking back at the tablet. The Sam/Gadreel problem was just only a small part they needed to fix. There was still Metatron and Abaddon to deal with. Heading back to his room, he picked up the phone and called Dean.

            It rang for a while before Dean picked up, “hey buddy, what’s up? Sam and I are just heading back to the bunker.” Dean sounded cheerful. Too cheerful in fact and he was letting him know he wasn’t in a position to talk about their plan. Or lack of one.

            But he caught on, “it is going well here in Idaho. Just wanted to let you know that I was able to find it.”

            “Does it work?” Dean asked still keeping up pretenses. If Gadreel was listening in, which was likely, then they had to throw him off.

            “It should. I wish I could show you, it’s in the storeroom.” Hopefully Dean got to head directly to the storeroom since it is the nearest enclosed space to the door.

            “Awesome,” Dean replied smoothly, “well, we’re gonna be back at the bunker in….four, three hours. We couldn’t find any more info one the biker angel gang other than they were followers of Buddy. We’ll do some more research while you go get set up. That cool?”

            “Perfectly.”

            “Okay then, just keep an eye out there alright?”

            “Will do,” he replied as he hung up. Now he had to go get everything set up and await for Sam and Dean.

 

* * *

 

            “That Cas?” asked Sam beside him.

            “Yeah, he was able to find a…a laptop.”

            Sam scrunched his face, “a laptop?”

            “Well yeah, he’s…well, he needed a computer or something. To…ah, browse the internet and watch movies.” He looked over at Sam to gauge how well the lie was being bought. “It was my idea, so…you know, he can email or chat with us.”

            Sam smirked, “that or it’s your way to introduce him to porn.” _He bought it,_ he thought to himself. “Hopefully he doesn’t ruin it like you do,” Sam went on.

            “Hey! I...uh…” he thought he cleaned the browser history whenever he ‘borrows’ the laptop.

            “Your porn has a lot of viruses Dean. And don’t deny it was you. I know it was. Who else would watch hentai tentacle porn?”

            “Okay, fine, whatever,” he blushed turning back onto the road ahead.

            “So how is Cas?”

            “Back in Idaho it seems. He’s staying safe.” He could feel Sam looking at him wanting to know more. Instead, he turned up the music and pushed the pedal a bit more. The faster they get the bunker, the sooner they can put an end to this.

           

* * *

 

            Kevin was safe and asleep in his room, exhausted from his deciphering of the tablet. Which was good because he didn’t want to explain why he was painting the store room with his blood and setting up a ring of holy oil. He put the sigil on a part of the wall that could not be seen when the door is opened. His plan was to wait in the storeroom since Sam/Gadreel had no idea he was there. As soon as the brothers arrived, he would activate the spell.

            Once that was done, he checked out another area that held artifacts. As he was hoping, there was a vial similar to the one Uriel had to contain Anna’s grace. It was likely that Gadreel would go to his previous vessel, but he didn’t want to lose him. He had contact with Metatron and could therefore be useful to them. If it were any other angel, he would feel guilt in entrapping them. However for his crimes, Gadreel deserved far worse.

            In Heaven, the very name of Gadreel is synonymous with utter failure and disgrace. Many blamed him for the current state of the world and the reason why God left. Humanity was to be his shining creation, but with the fall of the garden, they became blemished. After that, coupled with the fall of Lucifer, God left them.

            Yet, ever since Naomi pointedly told him his memories have been wiped, he does question the validity of the history he has been told. He wonders on how much he actually does know. Maybe…no. No, he couldn’t doubt himself, not now. Gadreel has to be contained on the grounds the Metatron sought him out. Metatron seeking anyone out is surly going to be a bad for the rest of them.

            A couple hours passed and he waited patiently. He busied himself looking over some the notes Kevin had made, correcting some of the translations. When he heard the door open, he moved quickly to the darkened storeroom. There, he waited for the brothers.

            They did a small detour to stock up on supplies. Since he is the one taking care of the cooking, he also does all the shopping. Granted, he bought stuff _he_ wanted to eat, so this time Sam was eager to join him. After spending an eternity in the fresh produce section, they finally left for the bunker.

            Mindless chit chat was exchanged between them even as he pulled into the garage. As he turned off the car, he took a deep breathe. This was it. Do or die. “Hey Sammy, help me with this stuff?”

            Already out the car, Sam said yes as they both took an armload to the kitchen. Once they put the bags down, he wondered where Cas and Kevin were. It seemed quiet…too quiet. Sam didn’t mind it though, Kevin is quiet and he doesn’t know Cas is here. He hoped everything was set up in the storeroom.

            “Shit, do we have salt still?” he asked Sam.

            “I dunno…want me to check the pantry?”

            “Ah…I think I put it in the storeroom.”

            Sam rolled his eyes, “fine, let’s check,” as he strode over to the storeroom. Following his tall brother, he braced himself for what was going to come next.

            Going in first, Sam turned on the light as he stepped through. As soon as h was through, he closed the door and hoped Cas came through. Clueless still, Sam walked into the middle of room. Then Cas came up and slammed his hand on the wall where he couldn’t see.

            “Do it now Dean!”

            “Cas!” Sam yelled as he spun over to look at the ex-angel just as he threw a lighter onto the oil igniting it. “What the hell?! Dean!” exclaimed Sam as he turned back to him.

            “Listen to me Sammy. I got to tell you some stuff fast. It's gonna piss you off.”

            Sam looked at him, “okay…but why is Cas here and why am _I_ in the ring of holy fire?”

            “Those trials really messed you up.”

            Sam looked at him, then Cas and back again. “Yes, I know that, Dean…but what the hell man?”

            “No, you don't. I mean messed you up like almost dead. No more birthdays, dust to dust. Well, that messed me up, so I made a move, okay, a tough move about you without talking it over because you were in a coma.”

            “Coma?  When was I in a coma?”

            “Sam, please listen to Dean. We don’t have much time,” Cas interrupted as he bandaged his hand.

            “You were in the hospital, okay, and they said you were gonna die.”

            A dark cloud came over Sam’s face, “Dean…what did you do?”

            “I…I let an angel in.”

            “In who?”

            “In you Sam. What Dean is trying to say is that in order to save your life, he let an angel take possession of you. Still in possession in fact.” Cas answered. Again, he was glad that Cas was there. He needed his support in this.

            Sam again looked between them, “he's still in me? That's impossible, Dean. That couldn't happen. I never invited him in.”

            “I tricked you Sammy,” he admitted looking at his brother as the flames flickered across his face. “I did what I had to do to save you.”

            Sam’s face immediately went tight and hard with anger. “So... again. You thought I couldn't handle something, so you took over! Dammit Dean! I thought we were over this!” Sam looked at Cas for a moment then turned his gaze back to him. “Is that why you made Cas leave? Why I’ve been having blackouts?”

            “You would've never agreed to it, and you would've died!” he said in his defense.

            “Well, maybe I would've liked the choice Dean! It’s _my_ life!”

            He held up his hand, “We can do this – later. You can – you can kick my ass all you want. Right now, we got bigger problems.”

            “Bigger?”

            “Yes Sam, the angel possessing you is not who Dean thought it was.” Cas turned to him, “the angel possessing Sam is not Ezekiel, but Gadreel.” Turning back to Sam, “you need to expel him out. I can contain him in this,” he held up a bottle, “and then you and Dean can…discuss things.”

            Sam looked furious but determined. Grinding his teeth, “Gadreel…or whoever the fuck you are, get the HELL OUT OF ME!” he shouted. Immediately, his eyes flashed blue then he opened his mouth. Holding out his hand with the container over the flames, Cas chanted in Enochian. Rather quickly, a blue silky mist exited Sam and directly into the bottle. Once it was all in, Cas put the stopper in and began putting out the flames.

            He stamped out some before he went to go to his now hunched over brother who had fallen to his knees after expelling the angel. As soon as the grace was gone, Sam was pale white and clutched his stomach in pain. “You okay there Sammy?” he asked as he kneeled down.

            Only to be shoved hard away, “I’m…fine,” Sam breathed out haggardly on the floor kneeling. Looking at his brother, he could see that Sam was both in pain but enraged, so he didn’t’ move. Instead, Cas reached down and offered his support which Sam took as he got up.

            “You are well Sam,” Cas asked as Sam leaned on him. “I can’t tell how much damage is unrepaired.”

            Standing wobbly up, he took a moment to get his breathe. “I’ll be fine Cas…just need to lie down.”

            “Sam…” he called out still on the floor.

            “Just shut the fuck up Dean,” snapped Sam as he limped out beside Cas. It was Cas who turned his head to make sure he was okay while he helped his brother out. Clearly Cas was torn between helping Sam and comforting him. Seeing his concern, he shook his head at Cas and waved his hand. Sam wasn’t dead so that was great, but he could already feel their relationship strained to new heights.

            As they disappeared from the room, he sank back further onto the ground. “I don’t know if we’re getting over this one…” he murmured to himself.

 

* * *

 

            Sam wasn’t leaning entirely on him, mostly he was there to keep his balance. He doubted he could support a man of Sam’s frame with his own without his grace. The taller man was evidently well enough to be under his own power and cognitive, so Gadreel had healed him to a certain point that Sam would survive without him. The captive angel was safely trapped in the vial and when he had a chance, he’ll talk to him.

            As they walked to Sam’s room, Sam turned to him, ‘did you know Cas?”

            “No, I did not Sam, not until Dean...clued me in a couple of days ago. That is why I am here. He sent me to see if Kevin and I can find a way to break you out of Gadreels control.”

            Sam nodded, “well, thanks for that. But aren’t you mad too? You had to live out in the streets because-because of what Dean did.” There was hurt Sam’s voice, Dean’s betrayal of him was beginning to sink in.

            However, he wasn’t mad. “No, I am not upset at Dean. He did what he thought was in your best inter-”

            Sam stopped and looked at him, “no…Dean didn’t do this for me Cas. Dean…he does this every time! He does some huge stupid mistake to ‘save’ me. And I’m…I’m tired of it Cas.” By coincidence or not, Sam again gripped him tight for support as his legs nearly buckled. “I’m…I’m sorry Cas.”

            Nearing Sam’s door, he reached over to open. “There is nothing you need to apologize for Sam.”

            “No, I do. I knew something was wrong when Dean said that you left.” Sam flopped on his bed, “if it wasn’t for me or that angel, you could’ve been safe here with us.”

            “You cannot apologize for something you had no knowledge of Sam. And I enjoyed my time in Idaho.” He did actually, minus the part where he almost got killed…or when he had to sleep in the back of the store...it could go on. Part of him did feel anger now, perhaps it was just empathy for Sam, but he felt it now. “Well, perhaps enjoy is not the most apt word, but it was educational.”

            Sam smiled weakly on his bed, “well, I guess that’s good. You’re gonna stay here now?”

            “I honestly do now know. I would like to question Gadreel and see about fixing my own mistakes as well.”

            “Good, cause if you aren’t here…well, I’m glad you’re going to stay.” Sam closed his eyes as he murmured some more. It was only a minute more before he was asleep. Quietly, he closed the door as he exited.

            Heading back to the storeroom, he found that Dean had not gotten up and was still looking at the spot where Sam nearly fell over. Still focused on the spot, Dean spoke. “How is he?”

            “Tired, but I think it is just from the stress from being a vessel. He should feel better when he awakes.”

            “Not what I mean Cas…I mean…is he-”

            “Angry at you? Yes.” He walked over and held out his hand offering his help to the troubled hunter.

            Ignoring it, “I knew this was going to end bad,” Dean confessed. “I knew it the moment that angel said I had to kick you out.” He looked up at him, “you gonna hate me too?”

            He’s only heard Dean sound this broken once, when Sam dived into the cage. This man beneath him who had given so much cannot bear to give again he realized. Dean is scared. Scared of losing Sam, and of losing him as well. And he should be angry, he felt it within him. The impulse to make Dean feel as he had when he was cast out. But it evaporated as soon as Dean asked that question. He could never, ever possibly hate Dean Winchester. “No Dean, upset yes, but hate you? I don’t think I am capable of that.”

            Dean leaned his head against the shelf behind him. “You should.”

            “And what would that accomplish Dean? My hating you would serve no purpose. Neither will you sitting on the floor commiserating.” Not waiting for Dean to act for himself, he reached down to grab him by the arm. Not resisting, Dean was help up but still had a lost look on him.

            “Sam’s gonna hate my guts,” Dean murmured as he walked out of the room. Then he stopped and turned to face Cas. “Maybe I should leave…give us some space.”

            “No, that would be a bad. You leaving would only leave questions unanswered.” And he had questions of his own.

            Dean merely nodded, “I guess I do owe you that much…” he replied as he walked shamefully to his room.

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

It had been several hours since Gadreel vacated Sam. Both the brothers were in their rooms, Sam asleep and Dean…well Dean was not asleep. The smell of whiskey was strong when he passed by the room. He was tempted to knock a couple times to check, but he thought better of it. If Dean wanted to be alone, then he will respect that.

            Back in his room, he looked at the container that held Gadreel. The angel that started it all was again imprisoned as he should be. Yet, it is curious that Metatron would seek him out. There are many questions he would ask of Gadreel, but now he had the problem on how to communicate with him. So for now, he would be contained for their safety. So for a while he tried to sleep, which came fitfully. The tension in the bunker was clearly building it seemed to him.

            Finding being in his room pointless, he ventured out to the kitchen where he found Kevin making a sandwich. Noticing his entrance, Kevin looked over at him. “Want a sandwich Cas?”

            A slight grumble from his stomach reminded him that it would be a welcome sentiment. “Yes and thank you.” Kevin didn’t respond but turned back to making his food. Since he was in his room, Kevin would not be aware of what has happened. “Dean and Sam are back.”

            “Yeah, I noticed they brought food.”

            “Ah…well, they had-”

            “A fight,” Sam said from the doorway making him and Kevin look at the tall man. He still looked pale but he is steady on his feet. He also radiated frustration and anger though.

            Kevin sighed, “what happened now?”

            “Dean thought it would be a good idea to trick me into letting an angel in me.”

            “What?!?” Kevin asked actually taken by surprise. Then he turned to him, “is that why we had to look up that stuff? ‘Cause it was _Sam_ that was possessed?”

            It was his turn to sigh, “yes, it was. Dean only told me a couple of days ago. I was not aware of it beforehand.”

            “What the hell? And why didn’t you tell _me_?” the prophet asked indignant.

            “Dean did not want to alert the angel, whose name is Gadreel, to the plan.”

            “And who is this Gadreel Cas?” Sam asked.

            Sitting down since he figured this was going to be a long discussion he thought of where to begin. “Gadreel was the angel who was supposed to protect the Garden, known as Eden to humans. When God created humanity, they lived there in peace and harmony with nature and God. However, he allowed Lucifer into the Garden.”

            “You mean that entire Genesis is right? That Eve ate the apple and everything?”

            “Not quite, but yes, it was because Gadreel evil was allowed to entire the world. After that, the War in Heaven began and, well, you know the rest. Suffice to say, it was because of his failure that we have this broken world. For his crime, he was imprisoned for all of eternity.”

            “Until Metatron forced all the angels out,” Sam surmised.

            “Yes, and if Gadreel is out, then the others imprisoned must also be free,” he realized. He looked at Sam, “then it is worse than I thought. They were many dangerous angels kept imprisoned there Sam. Alath, Malachi, Belias…all of them are too dangerous.”

            “More so than the average angel?” queried Kevin.

            “Yes, Malachi is an anarchist, Belias is insane and well, suffice to say, they are more dangerous than the average angel, yes.”

            Sam also sat down and ran his hand through his hair. “Okay, but that doesn’t change what happened.”

            “Which is?” Kevin asked.

            “Dean lied to me, to you,” Sam pointed at him, “and to you,” pointing to Kevin. “I…it hurts to say this, but I can’t trust Dean, not right now. Maybe never, I don’t know.”

            “Sam, he did this to save you-”

            “I know he did Cas! And that’s the problem! I’m a grown ass man and I should be able to make my own decisions. Every time Dean ‘saves’ me, it always turns out bad! Hell, the Apocalypse happened because of it! He’s made deals, tricked me more than once, lied so many times I’ve lost count!”

            “To be fair Sam, you did do the same on several occasions,” he replied being a devil’s advocate for Dean. “Even I have done so,” he added, not forgetting his own mistakes.

            Sam let out a frustrated breathe, “okay, yeah, you’re right Cas. But it’s different this time. I thought we were over that crap by now. When we were in that church, we promised to never lie to each other again. And I was prepared to die Cas, I was _ready._ You know that as well as I do. There was no saving me. Not that time.”

            He and Kevin didn’t say anything. They all knew how Sam looked near the end of the trials. As an angel, he saw that the damage went as far as his sub-atomic makeup. It was never said, but none of them expected Sam to survive. But they never questioned it when Sam came back healthy. He didn’t make the connection until Dean hinted at it and Kevin must’ve assumed he just did.

            “Look guys, I’m just pissed and I don’t mean to take it out on you two. I-I just don’t know how to feel right now. Part of me wants to beat the shit out of Dean, and another part wants to…just go.” Sam sighed, “this life, it takes a lot out of ya, and not to sound fatalistic, but if it was my time to go, it was ­ _my time._ And Dean took that away because he was selfish.”

            Selfish? He couldn’t comprehend Dean being selfish. If anything, Dean was selfless. “I do not follow your meaning Sam.”

            Kevin answered before Sam could, “I think what Sam is saying is that Dean _won’t_ let Sam go. At any cost. He’s so dependent on Sam that he can’t think of a life without him. Classic symptoms of codependency.” Now both he and Sam looked at Kevin who just took a bit out of his sandwich. “What?”

            “Codependency?” he asked.

            Kevin nodded, “yeah. As I said, the symptoms are all right there. Low self-esteem, denial of complex emotions, caretaking, dysfunctional communication? Who does that sound like?”

            “Like Dean,” Sam answered. “I know Dean and I…we’re brothers and after what we’ve been through, that’s understandable.”

            “Unlike Dean though, you tried to move on. Last year you ignored me and left to live in Texas,” Kevin held up his hand. “Not that I blame you. Now at least. It’s just, who _wants_ to live like this?” Kevin had a point, Sam tried twice to leave the hunting life and succeeded until Dean returned both times. The same thought ran through Sam’s mind it seemed as he nodded in agreement. “Now, I get Dean and I’m grateful for all he’s done. I do. But I don’t want to spend the rest of my life hiding down here. And I don’t think you do either Sam.”

            “You’re right…I don’t.” Sam looked around the kitchen, “Dean sees this place as a home. To me…it’s not. It’s where I work. Maybe that’s the difference between he and I.”

            “Perhaps Sam, but Dean does care for you,” he added.

            “I know he does Cas. It’s just, he shouldn’t be making my choices for me. Or for you or any of us. It’s…complicated right now and I don’t know what to do.”

            And neither do he and Kevin have any idea as well as they looked at each other. It’s complicated is an understatement but they also had other problems to deal with. There is after all, a knight of hell and a power mad angel on the loose.

            “Well, how about I leave while y’all can go off and live the apple pie life then?” Dean said from the doorway before he walked away.

 

* * *

 

            He knew Cas stopped by his door a couple of times, seeing his shadow under the door. It was nice to know that Cas wanted to talk to him, but even better that he didn’t knock. All he wanted was to drink a bit, watch some porn and worry himself about what Sam is going to do. Hunters helper made the time go easier, but he paced himself. Getting drunk is not going to make anything better. Besides, one bottle is hardly going to do it for him anyway.

            Time passed and he got some shut eye somewhere along the line. Now he was hungry and opened the door. Seeing no one in the hallway, he crept to the kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. He wasn’t quite ready to face anyone, not right now. As he neared the kitchen though, he heard all three of them.

            It isn’t in his nature to eavesdrop, unless it was for a case, but he heard his name tossed around a couple of times. Interested, he pressed himself against the wall near the doorway to hear better.

            As the conversation deepened, he regretted it more and more. Denial of emotions? Well he isn’t a pussy footed kind of guy! Real men don’t talk about _feelings_. Dysfunctional communication? Sam understands him just fine! And he doesn’t have low self-esteem? What was he, a goth kid?

            Their words though, as much as he denied it, did ring true. He knew it was selfish of him to trick Sam, but he’s supposed to look out for him! Sam isn’t going to die on his watch, not again. That’s his one job in life and he’s been doing it since Sam was six months old.

            Well, that and hunting. That was his life. No more, no less. He’d probably die on a hunt someday, saving the planet or something. From his failure with Lisa, he knew that a domestic life is never going to be his. But it could be Sam’s, or Kevins. Hell, it could even be Cas’s life someday. Not him though. And it’s because of _him_ that they’re all here in the bunker, not out there.

            And that hurt him. It did, and he was loathe to admit that. Maybe it might be from the alcohol, or maybe the simple truth, but it ripped his insides. He knew that Sam was perfectly capable of living without him. Kevin and Cas as well. They _don’t_ need him. It was him that needed them.   

            So when there was a silent break in their conversation, he came out of the and told them what they apparently wanted. As he turned away from their stunned faces, he became determined. He survived without them before and he can again. He’ll fix this mess and do what he was mean to do. Hunt monsters.

            A wash of several emotions flowed over him as he picked up his bag from his room. Anger at them and himself, sadness that he was going alone, happy that he was going to gank something, anything real soon. Or better yet, find someplace to get totally wasted or maybe find a nice woman to spend the night with.

            Distantly, he heard his name but he ignored it was he stomped his way to his baby. The only thing to not leave or disappoint him. Fuck, how sad was that? That the only thing that cared for him was a freaking car?

            “Dean!” Cas nearly yelled as he was yanked by the shoulder.

            ‘What!” he shouted. “What the hell do you want? For me to apologize for dragging you into this piss poor life?”

            “No Dean,” Cas said far to calmly. “I’m saying that you’re not driving anywhere inebriated. I’m driving.”

            “Wait…what?”

            Cas yanked the keys from his hand, “I said, I’m driving.”

            “The hell you are Cas. Why don’t you go back to Idaho and work at being normal?”

            Cas squinted his eyes, “Dean, I’m an angel who is human now. I will never be ‘normal.’ And if you insist on leaving, just know I am going with you.”

            From his tone and grip on him, he knew Cas wasn’t kidding around. “Why Cas? Why come with me? Don’t I mess everything up?”

            “You’re hardly the only person to do so Dean. Remember who released the Leviathan and forced the angels out of Heaven?” Cas let go of his wrist, “Dean, you are my friend. I know why you did what you did. And that is something you and Sam will have to work out. Eventually. But right now, I think it would be best if we allowed some…um…’breathing room.’”

            And in that moment, he felt humbled that he had someone like Cas. His own guardian angel who isn’t even an angel anymore, still doing his job. “Yeah…you’re right. Sam’s liable to kick the shit out of me.”

            “Oh, he wanted to, that’s why it is a good idea to leave very soon,” Cas replied as he opened the driver side door.

            “Uh Cas, I drank but I’m, not drunk. I can drive.”

            “You’re emotionally unstable, which is just as bad. I am perfectly capable of driving the Impala Dean. I promise to be careful.” To prove it, he turned the engine over and put his seatbelt on. “Are you coming or what?”

            For a brief moment, he was proud of Cas taking charge. “Okay then, you drive, but I still get to pick the music.”

           

             

           

* * *

 

 

                        The Impala is a car and he has driven several cars with ease so he assumed he could easily drive that Impala as well.  He was wrong. The Impala is different in that the power contained within it is raw, barely tamed. Even a slight touch on the gas pedal made the engine roar. He couldn’t recall the car ever being so loud…or intimidating.

            “You gotta be gentle with her Cas,” Dean smirked beside him.

            Shifting into drive and the accompanying rumble, he took a calming breathe. On top of the power the car had, it is also the Winchesters home for most of their lives. In Dean’s case, his attachment bordered on obsessive to the car. Which may be the reason why he felt intimidated to actually drive, with Dean watching him like a hawk.

            Being as gentle as he could, he eased down on the gas and the giant car moved smoothly forward up the ramp. Feeling Dean’s eyes on him, he was extra careful when he pulled onto the road. After driving for several miles without incident, he felt Dean relax. When the hunter did so, his own grip slackened in turn. Content that he wasn’t going to crash, Dean began looking through his tape box. Picking one he popped it in and the jumble of sounds that Dean call music began to rumble out of the speakers.

            Shifting into a comfortable position, Dean just looked out the window, saying nothing. They hadn’t discussed where they were going, leaving abruptly from the bunker. Other than Deans piece of advice, he hadn’t said a word and he didn’t to bother his friend. Dean doesn’t do ‘talks’, especially one dealing with emotions.  So he didn’t talk, just listened to music he didn’t care for and watched the road. Instead, he made his own judgment call on where to go, which he decided was south. After a couple of hours, he went west. 

            Having ridden with the brothers often enough, he avoided the highways. They only used those if they were in a hurry. Instead, Dean always took the long way round, though he drove at high speeds anyway. He didn’t, keeping the Impala at the speed limits posted though it almost seemed she wanted to go faster. Rather, he just drove and after a couple of hours, he started to see why Dean liked to drive. It is relaxing, just focusing on the road going somewhere even though they didn’t have a destination. The gentle bumps, the soft leather, the feeling of going fast over the pavement, it all made him feel free in a sense.

            When one tape ended, Dean just put another one in. Several tapes had played when Dean finally spoke. “Hey, pull in there,” Dean said as he pointed to the nearing gas station. Glancing at the dashboard, he saw that they were running low on fuel. Once he had stopped, Dean hopped out of the car and went into the small store while he refueled the car. Dean came back out with a couple of bags when he finished and opened the trunk. Putting a six pack in the cooler with a bottle of whiskey, Dean closed the trunk and brought the smaller bag in with him.

            “Here,” Dean offered holding out a can of iced tea and packaged donuts. Taking them, he tore open the package and popped in two of the small treats. They were his favorite ones, the crunchy cinnamon ones. And he is hungry. They left before he had a chance to eat. Seeing that, Dean raised an eyebrow. “Uh…you hungry Cas?”

            He turned to face Dean, “yes.”

            Dean shook his head with an amused smile, “okay then, how about you drive till we see something you’d like to eat.” Clicking in his seatbelt, he turned the engine and pulled back on the road a bit faster than usual.

            Being in the middle of nowhere didn’t offer many choices, but eventually they found a place. All the while, he felt Dean looking at him as he drove. The man didn’t put the music back on and he didn’t talk, but he felt the air feel a bit lighter now. As they pulled into the diner, Dean looked over at him, “I think baby likes you.”

            “What?” he asked as he put the car in park.

            “Baby, she likes you.”

            He looked at Dean through squinted eyes, “how can a car as an inanimate object make a preference on who is driving it?”

            Dean looked shocked and patted his car with tenderness, “he doesn’t know you baby.”

            Rolling his eyes, he passed Dean and walked into the diner. Seeing the sign to seat himself, he picked a both looing out to the car and street. Dean came in a few seconds later and looked around. Other than the waitress now walking over to them, there was no one else.

            “What can I get you?” an older plumb lady asked them holding a pad and a pen.

            “Coffee,” Dean replied.

            “Two please,” he added. Nodding, the woman left them.

            Dean looked tired but he put on a smile. And it wasn’t his fake one, it’s a genuine one. “What I meant Cas, is that not everyone can drive baby.”

            He was about the say that Sam probably drives better than he does, but thought better of it. Mentioning Sam would not be a good thing right now. Not when the relationship between the two is as strained as it is. While he was driving, he had hoped that maybe Sam would call or text either of them, but he didn’t. Which should be for the better for the time being. “It is…different to drive your car than other vehicles.”

            Dean’s eyes light up at that, “well, duh. Baby’s a classic. They don’t make them like that anymore.”

            “I mean that it seems more…powerful.”

            “Well, she has a V8 engine with a little over 400 horsepower Cas. She can go from 0 to 60 in less than 8 seconds.  She used to do it at 8.3 seconds when dad gave her to me, but I got it down with some added stuff,” Dean went on until he looked back at him. He knew about engines and the physics behind them, but the love Dean had for the car is something he couldn’t quite grasp. Dean saw that, “well…basically means she has a damn powerful engine. When she has her running shoes on, she can fly.”

            “The Impala is not capable of speeds to achieve sustained flight Dean”

            Dean made a sour face, “I bet if I added wings and did some tweaking, she could. “ He looked out the window, “but I won’t cause she’s perfect as she it.”

            “Why do you refer to it as a she? I never understood why.” He had seen this custom not from Dean, but from many others across history. Angels being genderless found it even more confusing why humans assigned gender to inanimate objects.

            “Well…I…don’t know really. She’s always been a, uh, a her. I guess its tradition? Captains of ships, like Kirk always called the ship a her.” Dean looked back at the car, “I dunno Cas. Maybe cause they take care of us like a mom or wife does?” At that, Dean picked up the menu to see what to order.

            As he did the same, he wondered about that connection Dean had made. Certainly it fit. The Impala has been there protecting and sheltering Dean since he was a little boy. It is not at all difficult to treat the car as a he would his mother. With love and care.

            Seeing Cas drive his car, his baby, despite his protest and wariness of letting someone else drive her, made him proud.  Okay, it only reaffirmed that Cas _can_ do normal stuff without his help, but still, it was cool. But he wasn’t exactly in the mood to espouse approval to the new human. No, he was thinking about what Sam and Kevin said.

            Codependent. So there was a word for it then. This _thing_ between him and Sam. Why he was always the one dragging Sam back to this life when he could have been happy. But he couldn’t be happy unless he had Sam around, where he can keep him safe. To which he had failed spectacularly on several occasions. Was this to be a cycle that never ended between them?

            Right now, he let his mind wander back to the food in front of him. He’s had enough feeling sorry for himself for one day and he needed to do something. Taking a bite and swallowing, he looked over at his companion. “So up for a hunt?”

            Cas looked up from his plate, “a hunt?”

            “Why not? We got bupkis on Metatron and Abaddon. May as well do what we’re not paid to do.”

            “Actually, I do have a lead on Metatron,” Cas said as he put down his fork. “Before I left to go the bunker, I found Metatron talking to Gadreel outside the bar.”

            “What?” he asked surprised and bit upset. 

            “Oh…yes,” Cas looked sheepishly at his plate before looking up. “I haven’t had the time to update you on what I saw. Gadreel  was the guardian of the garden and it was him that let Lucifer in to corrupt the world. He was imprisoned in Heaven until Metatron cast everyone out.”

            “Wait…Heaven had a jail? Why not Hell or the Clockwork Orange crap?”

            Cas shrugged slightly, “yes, where those who were too dangerous to keep anywhere else. I do not know why some angels were…re-educated instead of imprisoned. And Hell is not a reliable prison for angels, other than Lucifer of course in the cage. Anyway, that is beside the point.” He took a sip from his coffee, “Metatron is possibly regretting his decision to cast all the angels out. He’s alone in Heaven with nothing to do.”

            “So what? He’s lonely now?” Oh boo-hoo for the douchbag.

            “Yes, I believe so. Not all the angels are aware of what he did, and he can work that to his advantage. Also, by appealing to Gadreel, he may be trying to gain support from those who make thank him for setting them free.”

            “But why? He planning on being the new god?” he replied not thinking before he realized what he said. Panicked he looked at Cas, “aw shit…I don’t mean it like that Cas.”

            If it offended Cas, he would never know. Cas squinted his eyes away in thought for a moment as his apology lingered in the air. “Actually…he might,” Cas answered looking back at him. “Recall that I was delusional with power when I took in the souls. He may not have much power, but he knows things no one else does.”

            “Crap…another wanna be god and savior,” he looked at Cas and offered a smile, “no offense Cas.”

            “None taken Dean,” Cas said as he took another bite of his omelet. “But it is likely he’s going to find a way to enhance his own power. He is just a scribe, one of the lowest angels. Metatron does not have the skill nor strength to fight most angels.”

            “I guess that’s an advantage, but going off what you’re saying, he’s probably knows a way around that.”

            “Perhaps…but there are not many things that can supply that kind of power. The souls in Heaven cannot empower him, Purgatory is again off limits and he would never align with a…” He guessed Cas was going to say demon before Cas resumed after a brief pause. “There are not many options he could use to empower himself to my knowledge.”

            “That _we_  know of at least. The guy had long talks with God, so who knows what he knows right? I guess our best bet is Kevin working the tablets to see what Metatron could be up too.” Kevin is a smart kid, but reading the tablet takes time and tires the young man out. And what does he get in return? Nothing. Then it hit him. “Hey Cas, I have an idea…and, well, it may help us out.” Cas have him a small nod to continue, “Kevin’s been working his ass off for us, for the world and everything. I think we should go look for him mom, we owe him that much.”

            Cas mulled it over, “I agree. If he is not worried about the well being of his mother, assuming she is not dead, then it would improve his morale and perhaps inspire him to work harder?”

            “That’s what I am thinking,” and it might get him back in Kevin’s good graces.

            “Where should we begin?”

            “We’ll worry about that after I’ve had my burger,” he smirked back thankful to have a mission. God knows if they can actually pull this off, but at least it’s a start to fix the mess he caused.

           

* * *

 

            He was the one who called Sam for help when Dean was away using the restroom. The past couple of days they’ve been running on some ‘leads’ Dean had pried from Crowley weeks prior. Most of them had nothing to do with their case but it gave Dean a purpose. He found that Dean had to remain occupied otherwise the man would fall into what humans call a ‘funk.’ There was one resource they could use, but Dean wasn’t going to use it because of the tension between him and Sam.

            That didn’t mean he couldn’t. So when a moment presented itself, he called Sam. It only rang a couple of times before he answered. “Hey Cas,” Sam answered in a level voice.

            “Hello Sam, I might need your help.”

            There was a moment of silence, “okay, sure. What do you need?”

            “Can you ask Crowley where Mrs. Tran is, if she is alive?”

            He heard Sam sigh over the phone, “that was one of the first things we asked him Cas. He kept his mouth shut on it. Can I ask why though?”

            “We,” he answered, not wanting to name Dean since that may be unwise, “are looking for her. Give Kevin peace of mind, or at the very least, closure.”

            “I see…well, don’t know what to tell you Cas. It’s not we can magically make Crowley talk…” there was silence. “Wait…is there a way we can make Crowley talk?”

            He raked his mind to see if it was possible. Truth spells are well known, but since truth can be subjective at times, their effectiveness is questionable on humans. Let alone demons, who are creatures so twisted, truth and lies to them are one and the same. “I do not believe so Sam.”

            “Hmm, well…let me try again. Maybe I can get some info out of him. I’ll let you know.”

            “Thank you Sam.”

            “No problem Cas…and Cas?”

            “Yes?”

            “Keep a look out…for you both alright?”

            His mouth turned upright slightly, Sam still cared about his brother, even when he can’t even say his name. “I will Sam.”

            “’K, thanks Cas and I’ll text you if I got anything,” Sam replied as he hung up. Which as soon as he did, the door to the bathroom opened and Dean stepped out wearing nothing but a towel.

            “Who was that?” Dean asked as he opened his bag to rummage for some clothes.

            “Uh…I was inquiring about a possible lead.” He didn’t want Dean to know he resorted to calling Sam for assistance. As he cared for both brothers, he didn’t want to ‘pick a side’ in their current quarrel.

            Dean looked at him with a wary eye as he put on his boxers. “You called Sam didn’t you?” He nodded looking at the floor. Lying just made things worse for the lot of them he figured. “Well, what’d you ask?”

            He looked at Dean who was just drying his hair now that he had some clothing on. If Dean was upset at his initiative, it did not show. “I asked him to see if there was more information he could gather from Crowley. We’re finding nothing on our own out here.”

            “So he got anything?”

            “He’ll let me know.”

            Dean nodded as he put on the rest of his clothes. Since they began this mission, they have been in close proximity to each other, more than they ever had been in years, if ever. Things between them hasn’t been so burdened between them in a long time. Right now, he had nothing to hide from Dean and Dean had nothing to hide from him. For once, things were honestly good between them. After tying his boots, Dean looked at him, “well, if Sam is going to work over Crowley, I day let’s take a break and get a drink.”

            Getting up, he followed Dean to the door who apparently didn’t wait for his response. Not that it mattered, if Dean wanted to drink, he’ll drink. All he can do is just tag along, but he didn’t mind. Going to bars seemed to be a past time many people enjoyed. The small town they were in had a dive bar only a short walk from their cheap hotel, so Dean didn’t drive. Catching up to Dean, “do you plan to hustle tonight?” he asked.

            “Naw, we’re good on cash and ‘sides, this place don’t look like it would give us much anyway.” Dean pointed to the cars parked in at the lone rundown establishment. “See those cars? I’d bet you that half of them are working on prayer. None of those people could afford to lose money, ‘less they were stupid.”

            “And yet they come here to drink?”

            Dean made his ‘good point’ face. “Well, being human doesn’t mean we make rational decisions all of the time.”

            A small chuckle escaped him, “yes, I noticed that from time to time.”

            Dean laughed a bit, “you’re getting better a picking up humor man.” Opening the door, Dean let Cas enter first. The interior was just as deteriorated as the exterior, the smell of cheap beer and stale cigarette smoke permeated the air. The room had a bar lining the wall with stools, which were half occupied. In the center stood a pool table, empty with no one playing. At the end was a series of waist high tables surrounding a dance floor where an old couple danced to a country sang over the speakers. Only a handful of patrons looked at them before returning to their glasses. From the feel of the place, this was a place where people ran from their troubles. They fit in perfectly. 

            They walked along the bar until they were at the far end and took the two stools there. Dean waved over the bartender where he ordered two beers and a couple of shots. The woman was quick and severed them less than a minute afterward, giving them a small nod as Dean slid her money. “Keep the change,” Dean winked at her before she sauntered over the till smiling. He knew Dean was being flirtatious, which is usual, but he knew Deans taste. While she was good looking, she was also older, not to mention married as indicated by her wedding band.

            Taking the beer, he enjoyed the cool bitter taste refreshing him. Placing the bottle down, he looked over at Dean who was doing the same. “Do we make a toast Dean?” he asked taking the shot glass.

            “Why not?” Dean quipped as he took his own glass. “You do the honor?”

            Lifting the glass, “to accomplishing our mission of find Linda Tran.” He and Dean clinked glasses and drowned the contents. The tequila burned as it went down, unsettling his throat before landing harshly in his stomach. He fought down the urge to cough and instead put on a façade. Dean took one look at him and laughed.

            “Shit, you don’t like tequila do you?”

            “Ah…no, apparently I do not.” No longer needing to keep up a pretense, he grimaced at the aftertaste.

            “Well, you and half of all sororities Cas. Don’t worry though, it’s not for everyone.” Dean pushed his bottle toward him, “stick to that for the rest of the night. Forget that you can’t drink like you used to.”

            “I doubt that I require an entire store to become inebriated.”

            “Drunk Cas, and no, you don’t. But we’re not going to figure out which alcohol you like best. I kinda need you to be sober.”

            “Why?”

            “Cause I plan to get drunk…” Dean remarked with a grin. His glare in response changed that, “or I can have a couple beers and play a game of pool. That sound cool?”

            “Yes, that sounds more pleasant.” Cas replied smugly with a hint of a smile.

            Dean rolled his eyes, “fine then, may as well teach you how to play.” Rising from the stool, they both sauntered over to the table. For a couple of hours they played. Once Castiel had figured out the rules, he figured it was a game of mathematics, nothing but angles and velocity. While true, it was, he was trying to get Cas to know the ‘feel’ of the game. After losing a couple of games to him, Cas conceded that there was more to the game than simple numbers.

            Over the course of their game they drank and just enjoyed the short escape this excuse of a bar offered. After the third pitcher between them and couple more shots to celebrate Cas’s victory over him, which he allowed out of pity, he suggested that they go back to the motel. Since Cas was pretty much a lightweight, he followed him like a puppy. ‘ _Might be getting old,’_ he mused as he opened the door, _‘can’t stay out all night drinkin’._

            Cas flopped onto his bed, “I really like beds…floors are uncomfortable.” To further his point, Cas let out a content sigh as he stretched over the covers.

            “Dude, these beds suck ass…now _my_ bed, that’s a real bed. It remembers you, every inch of you to give you the best sleep humanly possible,” he countered with pride. He wished for his bed now on the road, but right now, it’s located in a radioactive area.

            “Was that you that replaced my mattress Dean?”

            ‘ _Shit,’_ he thought, he’d forgotten he’d done that. “Uh, yeah. Don’t know if you ‘member, but the original beds really sucked ass. Figured you might appreciate a real bed.”

            Pushing up on his elbows, Cas smiled at him sappily, “you were expecting me back.”

            “I…I didn’t want you to go in the first place remember? Figured that…well, that that might kinda make is up to you?”

            Cas smiled wider, “you expected me to come back to you.” Then he gently laid back down, “I’ll always come back to you Dean,” Cas added as an afterthought, apparently not knowing he was thinking aloud.

            And he did, most of the time when he could at least. “I know you do buddy, and I know that you could go all invisible back then.” Then a demented thought, possible from the alcohol, came to his mind. “Hey, you never spied on me when…I uh…was doing stuff did you?”

            At that, Cas again pushed himself up and looked at him curiously. “How did you know I could go invisible?”

            “Damn ‘gospels’ that Chuck wrote.” Now he was interested to know the answer since a blush crept over Cas’s face.

            “I…may have intruded once while you were in the shower.” Cas adjusted himself to sit on the bed more comfortably, “I thought you called for me.”

            It was his turn to blush. It wasn’t a crime or anything to beat your meat from sex you’ve had right? “Well, it ain’t nothing you’ve seen before.”

            “Dean…why do want to keep our sexual experience a secret? I know you like to boast of your sexual prowess often to others.”

            “What did I say about that Cas?” he asked evading giving an answer. This is something he’s not going to talk about. He ain’t gay and that was that. It was a one time thing only.

            Cas shrugged, not pressing the question further for once. “What else was in there Dean?” curiosity laden in his voice.

            “Charlie downloaded all the works that Chuck did but I only read one.” He paced over to the cooler, grabbing a couple of beers. No need to stop drinking now, “the one I glanced at was titled ‘The Man Who Would Be King’ and it was mostly about you.”

            “Me?” Cas asked taking the beer he offered. “I couldn’t imagine being in the gospels…” Cas trailed off before taking a drink.

            “Why the hell  woulnd’t you be Cas? You’re a major player in our lives. ‘Course you’re gonna be in the books.” Still weird that there even books about his and Sam’s life, but there it is. He’s made his peace with it, but the fanfiction thing is just wrong.  He sat on his bed diagonally from Cas on theother bed. “It’s freaky, reading your life, or seeing what Sam, or you were thinking. Still, it was useful.”

            “See what I was thinking? As in, what my thoughts were?”

            He nodded, “yeah, inner dialogue or whatever it’s called. In the one I read, you were actually…” he tried to the think of the word, “narrate…narrating the thing.”

            Cas scooted closer to the edge of his bed, “what was I talking about? When?” This topic peaked Cas’s interest and it _was_ old news to them both. The pain of that betrayal may have faded, but it’s effect is still lingering on them both. But this is what best friends do right? Talk to each other about crap like this. With Cas, he doesn’t have to put up pretending to be the older brother like he does with Sam. Cas can level with him.

            “It was about how you made the deal with Crowley to get into Purgatory.”

            “Then the title appears to be apt,” Cas said before taking another drink from his bottle. “That was not a good time for any of us,” the ex-angel said with a hint of sorrow. “I did what I thought was right to protect you and the world.”

            Which was basically what Cas said in the book. “Yeah, I got that. And you know what?” He realized in remembering the story, Cas _did_ come to him. He just never _talked_ to him because he got sidetracked by Crowley. “I know that you came to me when I was at Lisa’s.” He finished his drink and put the bottle on the nightstand before turning to face Cas. “Before Crowley asked you walk with him in Hell, you were thinking about talking to me weren’t you?”

            Cas closed his eyes, obviously trying to concentrate on the memory. “Yes…I had come by several times, to seek your advice. But every time I did, you were busy. Working at the construction site, raking leaves, playing ball with Ben, making food with Lisa. Each time I saw what I would be taking from you and I stopped.  Who was I to take that from you?”

            “But you brought Sam back for me didn’t you? Sure, you forgot his soul but I guess it’s the thought that counts.”

            Cas sighed, “yes, I did bring Sam back partially for your sake, but also because his sacrifice didn’t need to be eternal. I had the power to raise from perdition and I did because no being should be entrapped like that.”

            “But not Adam?” he asked offhanded. It’s not often he recalls his half-brother.

            “I may have had new strength, but attempting to being one person out of the cage cost a lot. So weakened, I didn’t even notice Sam’s soul was missing.”  He looked over at Dean, “I didn’t mean to do that. I just wanted to make you happy. You only seem complete with Sam by your side.”

            That only reinforced, again, his codependency on Sam. The thought prompted him to pull out his flask and take swig. Eyeing Cas, he saw that he made his friend worry so he offered his flask. “And look how well that turns out for me,” he said as Cas accepted his offer. “I guess the kid is right, I am a codependent mess of a brother to Sam.”

            Cas wiped his mouth, “I think there is a saying here on Earth…’it takes two to tango’? Sam needs you as much as you do.”

            “Then the why the fuck was he able to go live a normal life easier than I could?” he asked as he tried to reign in his emotions. “Being at Lisa’s wasn’t easy for me Cas, I was torn up inside, losing Sam, not seeing you. I was…I wasn’t a good fit for them.”

            “The circumstances between Sam leaving the hunters life and your are _not_ similar Dean. You went to Lisa because that’s what Sam wanted for you. When we were sent to Purgatory, Sam had no idea what to do. He was all alone with no direction. He could-”

            “He should’ve been taking care of Kevin and looking for us,” he hissed angrily. “See Cas? If given the choice, Sam wants _out._ You know, when Zeke, Gadreel, whatever saved Sam, he told me that Death was there to take Sam. _Death_ himself came to reap him and Sam was going to go with him.”  He angrily pointed to himself, “it’s _me_ that’s holding in back Cas. I’m the one who’s dragging Sam down. I’m the one who’s chickenshit afraid to be alone. I…” he felt a weight come off him, “I’m afraid to be alone,” he confessed to himself for the first time aloud.

            Only the faint hum of the neon sign outside the room could be heard as he watched Dean come to an epiphany. It was curious to try to be passive while his mind and body were out of sync watching this. Part of him wanted to argue with Dean, another was afraid, yet another was wanted to shout ‘at last’ that Dean finally understood his brothers grievance. The loudest one he wanted to act on was the one to comfort Dean. To just…be there for him.

            But that lead his mind down a path he both wanted and avoided. Even to hold Dean, to feel his warmth through his hand on the man’s shoulder sparked up memories of when he first laid his hand on that shoulder. Of when it was bare and cradling him while their bodies grinded against each other. Those memories and ideas were so vivid, so…wonton that he wanted to act on them.

            Of course, that would be selfish of him and this isn’t about him. No, this is about Dean and his realization. Breakthrough really. So he fought down those impulses and opened his mouth. “I’ll never want  leave you Dean.”

            Dean snapped out of his trance, “what’d you say?”

            “I’ll never you Dean,” he repeated. “Not it can be helped of course,” he added. Dean opened his mouth a couple times but then shut it like he wanted to say something be he couldn’t. He searched Dean’s eyes for his response instead. They looked wetter, bewildered and tired all at once. Once he saw where he was looking, Dean quickly turned away and got up.

            He paced the floor, took another swig of his flask and sighed before turning around. “I think we should turn in for the night,” the hunter said. By the tone, it was not a suggestion, so he got up. He was a bit dizzy to be upright, but he was okay by the time he reached into his bag to change his clothes. Behind him he heard Dean pulling to covers off and then a click. The area behind him went dark. As he walked into the bathroom to brush his teeth, he saw that Dean had assumed a position to imply he was sleeping. When he was done, he turned off his light and crawled into his bed.

            As he closed his eyes, his mind immediately seemed to begin to shut down as if it was anticipating going to sleep. Before he feel asleep, he did clearly hear Dean’s body move and felt eyes on his back. “I know,” Dean said softly from the other bed. “And I…thanks Cas.”

            Dean didn’t say anymore, but again turned over on his bad to face away from him. He didn’t know why, but he smiled into his pillow as sleep overcame him.

 


	8. Chapter 8

“If I was the king of Hell, where would I want to make a makeshift prison?” Dean mused looking at the map on the table of Witchita.

            “There are several abandoned warehouses and farms in the area,” he said throwing in his thoughts.

            “Yeah, and usually I’d say lets scope them out. But she ain’t there.”

            “How so,” he asked curious how Dean arrived to such a conclusion.

            “Well, if they stayed for a long period of time, people would notice. I’d bet that this is where he keeps his VIP’s. So he’ll need something that blends in. So no one would think to look there.”

            “A private residence? He’s had several mansions.” Crowley had expensive taste, a purely human vanity that persists even as a demon.

            Dean scratched his head, “yeah…maybe. But I bet he own something like an large store that no one goes to…or a storage place…” at that, Dean looked at him. “That’s it! A storage place! Those things are basically set up like a prison and no one goes to them. And he can have his goons working there as security and no one would be the wiser!”

             It did make sense. “I guess we should check who the owners are and see them for ourselves.”

            “Naw, let’s dress as feds and go to them. Look at the records and see if any names pop up.” At that, Dean got up and patted him on the back, “you ready to do this buddy?”

            He nodded, “yes, though I should take a shower.” It was only midmorning and Dean had let him sleep in while the hunter got ready for the day.

            Dean looked over at him and ran his hands roughly threw his hair. “Yeah, you do that. I don’t think we can pull off a fed if you look like you came from an orgy.” Taking his hand back, the hunter walked over to his side of the room as he looked on.

            Ever since Dean had come to his realization a couple nights ago, he’d been…lighter. There wasn’t so much worry and self-loathing wearing him down. It was almost Dean was happy, which is a bit confusing. He’s no specialist on human psyche, but he knows Dean. He expected Dean to ignore his revelation, to run away from it. Instead, Dean _accepted_ it and it was…weird. Even Sam agreed that this was unusual, but not unwanted.

            “This is healthy for him Cas. I think…I think that this is a step in the right direction for him.” Sam had told him last night while Dean was out. “You say he’s not drinking more than usual and you said he even shared his pie? God damn Cas, Dean only shares his pie if he’s in a really good mood.”

            “It is, I didn’t even ask for some. He just handed me a slice. It is…disconcerting to say the least.” Not that he disapproved. S’more pie is now his favorite pie.

            Sam chuckled over the line, “well, at least one of you gets it.”

            “Huh?”

            “Ah…nothing. You’re doing great there Cas. We’ll let you know if we got anything more okay?”

            As he hung up, he mused on what Sam did not say. He knew that the brothers sometimes thought him slow when it came to human subtlety, and they were right, but on this one, he knows. Sam knows as well as he did the bond between him and Dean. If he was presented a choice to save just one brother, he would save Sam. Not because he liked Sam better, but because it would be what Dean wanted. And he could never live with himself with Dean angry at him for choosing him. He cared for Dean, loved him more than a brother. The real question to them both, is if it was _romantic_ love.

 

* * *

 

            For a city in the middle of nowhere, there sure was a lot of storage places to check out. It was near dark as they rolled into the second to last storage place. As he killed the engine, he looked over at Cas. If there was ever a need for the face of boredom, Cas would be it. “C’mon Cas, seventh time is the charm right?”

            Cas had an honest to god bitchface, “I don’t think so since the fourth one was to be a charm,” the angel answered as he exited the car.

            “Well, this one of the last ones. If this one is a bust, we’ll call it a day. Sound good?” Cas nodded as he opened the door for him. “Bet you the guy is 5'5", pasty white, black-rimmed hipster glasses just like the last place.” Cas just rolled his eyes. Once inside the small office, he had a feeling that this was the place. The air in the office was filtered with a nice flowery smell to it. A flowery smell a tad overpowering, like it was trying to cover something up. That spelled suspicious.

            A man who matched his guess came in, “Hi, my name is Del. How can I help you guys?”  The man had a bad attitude vibe along with a nervous one.

            He and Cas both held out their badges, “Agents Nicks and McVie. Can we look at your records?”

             “Uh, my manager's not here. I really don't think I should…” he replied nervously.

            He snapped his fingers, “hey! The records, pal.” He knew how to push people and fear can be useful. As he expected, the hipster agreed. “Yeah. Barry! Bring out the rental binder!” After a moment, another guy with glasses came out with a huge book. Rather nervously, the first one opened the book for him and Cas. “Here you go sir.”

            He leafed through the mostly empty binder until one ‘D.Webster’ came up. Looking at the rental dates, the dude has several units saved foe over three decades. “Hey Cas, I think we got something,” he said as he looked at the map. “There’s three units here that might fit the bill, and there’s another one over here.”

            Del looked over from a distance, “yeah, that Webster guy. Doesn’t come in often.”

            “This Webster, what does he look like?” asked Cas in an almost growl.

            The poor dude looked like he was about to shit his pants. “He…uh…is short, kinda going bald. Looks rich, British I think?”

            Both he and Cas looked at each other, “Crowley,” they said in unison.

            “I can show you the units if you want. He has another one over in Building A.” Del volunteered.

            “I’ll take these three Dean,” Cas said pointing to the adjoining units on the far side.

            “’K, keep your eyes peeled.” He replied as Del motioned for him to the other unit on the other side. There wasn’t really a point to tell Cas that. Cas was always watching and on alert. It was a brisk walk to the lone building where the other unit was. As he opened the door, he scanned the units. “Which one is his?”

            “502, should be the third one down.” Del answered. He looked at the door in question and saw another name.

            “Hey, this one says-” was all he could get out before he felt a blow to his head and fell into darkness.

* * *

 

            Slowly he opened his eyes as his throbbing head came back to consciousness. First thing he saw was the other guy dead with his throat cut. Alarmed but not panicked, he gently tried to see what his own disposition was. Tugging at his hands and looking at his feet, he was tied up pretty good. Felt like rope on his wrists, should take long to get to him free. That’s when he heard the muttering on the other side of the room.

            “"Trust me," he says. ‘You definitely want to be a part of this-’ a chance to get in on the ground floor of my operation, ‘a real learning experience. Consider it a stepping stone, my lad -- like an internship.’ Should've known. Internships suck.” Del said holding a plastic cup in his hands with blood stains on it.

            “So you’re the one Crowley left in charge of this dump.”

            “Yeah. What a privilege. Feeding the apes, hosing the floors, washing out the honey buckets, and for zero credit. The boss missing in action…who am I going to tell that I caught Dean Winchester!”

            So he’s trying to make a call using blood as he looked at the dead co-worker. Crowley can’t do anything since he’s still locked up. The only other threat from Hell right now is Abaddon…and that’s something he doesn’t want to mess with right now. “So you know I’m Dean? Then you know what happens to demons who decide to take a piece of me right?”

            Del looked at him unimpressed, “and what are you going to do? Wiggle? As for your friend, he’s locked up with that Asian woman. So don’t count on his help.”

            So Linda is here and Cas is with her. Only a matter of time before they get out then. “Dude, you’re so screwed and you don’t even know it. Crowley put you in this dead end place so you don’t screw things up.”

            Del lifted him up, his wrists sliding roughly against the cold iron. The rope held but he began to twist to loosen the knot. “I may be a young demon, but I’m still a demon and I can take you any day old man.”

            “Old man?” he gasped in the choke hold he was now in. He’s not that old! At that insult, he furiously fought against his bindings as he tried to use his bound legs to push the demon away. It wasn’t as successful as he wanted, but it lifted some pressure off his throat. Gasping for air, he felt one of his hands slip free. Swinging wildly, he only scored a glancing blow to the demon but it was enough for him to be free.

            Free to fall right on his ass where he landed hard and he felt his still trapped hand take a good part of that fall. Hissing in pain, he brought his legs in so he can grab the knife there and cut the ropes at his ankles while he wiggled his bruised hand free. The second he had his other hand free, he felt an iron grip on his shoulder pulling him up. Del picked him up and threw him violently against some boxes.

            It was just his luck that the boxes in this store room were filled with hard ass stuff and again he landed hard. Except this time there was a lot of glass shattering and he felt several sharps pieces dig into the back of his thighs. As the pain shot through him, he also realized that his legs were free as well. However that small hope was dashed as Del picked him up again and threw him back onto the floor. As he was down again, Del kicked the wind out of him and felt the shards more acutely.

            “Yeah…not so tough old man,” the demon smiled. “Just cause I’m this plushy meatsuit don’t mean I’m not strong…”

            “Double…negative…in a sentence…” he wheezed. He’ll admit, this wasn’t his best and that maybe his worst insult ever. But as he pulled into a fetal position, he waited for an opening to grab his knife.

            “DEAN!” he heard Cas shout from the door on the far side of the storage unit. Del turned to look and as he did, he moved fast to grab the knife at his ankle and stab it through the demon. It wasn’t until the flickering body was falling down that all his injuries came back howling their pain. The shards of whatever he broke dug in deeper as he tried to walk forward.

            Pained as he was, he can stand and he waved off Cas who was walking over to no doubt inspect him. “I’m good. You have Mrs. Tran?”

            “I’m right here,” a petite yet firm voice called from the doorway. “You alright?”

            Seeing her, he stood up straight. “I’ve had worse. You?”

            She opened her arms so he can see the sorry state of her clothes, “I’ve had better,” she quipped. She folded her arms, “but thank you for coming for me.”

            “It was the least we can do for you both,” he said, noting how one side was more sore than the other. Hopefully a rib wasn’t broken. “But we should get the hell out of here. Del here was making a call and I don’t know to who.” He pointed his foot to the spilled cup.

            “You don’t have to tell me twice,” Linda said tiredly as Cas looked at him worriedly.

 


	9. Chapter 9

He should be used to Dean getting himself into situations where he somehow always needs saving. Granted, he didn’t actually save Dean directly, but his distraction is what gave the hunter the edge to win. Dean is alive, Mrs. Tran is safe and this mission is now a success. However, as they reached the car, Dean handed him the keys. It wasn’t until Dean moved the back seat to lie down did he notice the injury Dean had gotten. There were small holes on back of his pants showing small tints of red. Once he saw Cas looking, Dean just told him it was glass.

            Linda didn’t put up any argument about going to the motel first to clean up and rest before heading back to the bunker. Her one condition was she needed her own room which Dean reluctantly agreed to. He went to pay for another room and once he handed the key to Linda, he went to their room next door.

            Dean already had his shirt off and was looking to see if he had acquired any new battle scars in the mirror. The flesh he reconstructed was without a blemish, disregarding his handprint of course. But in the nearly five years since then, the man had acquired so many of his scars. A claw wound, a bite, bullet holes, burns and so many others now marred that flesh. And now glass shards embedded into the man who had no hope of digging them out by himself.  Shards that he could see Dean was thinking on how to get out.

            He went to get the first aid kit, “there’s no way you can get them yourself Dean.”

            Dean looked at him, “and what? You’re gonna take them out for me?”

            “Yes,” he replied as he dug out the tweezers. If he wasn’t mistaken Dean looked slightly blushed.

            “Dude,” Dean said in hushed tones, “there’re in my ass.”

            “All the more reason to take them out as soon as possible. Unless you never want to sit again.”

            Dean looked indignant, “but…”

            The man can be so…frustrating. “Dean, I’ve seen your ass plenty of times. Now lie down if you want me to take them out.” He heard Dean mumble something as he shimmied out his pants leaving his boxers on as he went on his stomach.

            As he knelt on the floor beside the man, Dean held up his hand, “wait…just let me have a bit of hunters helper.” Nodding, he reached for the bottle on the nightstand. The pain is unpleasant and in this case, he does not mind Dean drinking if to just calm him down. As he took a couple gulps, Dean shook his head as the burn went down. “Okay,” the man said looking directly at the plain head of the bed.

            Leaning over, he saw that there were several spots that likely had shards but the boxers Dean wore was keeping him from seeing the everything. Not asking, he reached over and tugged at the band down. As soon as he did, Dean yelped, “hey!”

              
            “I cannot see the entry points Dean,” he calmly replied as he continued pulling down the article of clothing. “And there is no need to be modest Dean.”

            “Fine…” Dean huffed returning to looking forward. Once the boxers were gone, there was some blood around the several shards. Getting up, he ran a towel under some hot water and brought a large clean one as well back to the bed. Gently he wiped the blood away before he used some antiseptic to clean. Taking the tweezers, he took out the largest ones and put them in a small plate.

            As he took each one out, he gazed again at the body that is Dean. The skin here was soft, but the muscle firm as he pressed down to tease the shards out. Warmth emanated from the bare skin and he felt Dean steeling himself every time he had to hold his hand down. Unintentional as it was, he recalled that night long ago when they were together. Human now, such memories, the feelings were stronger beside an unclothed Dean. As he took the last shard out, he put down the tweezers and let his hands begin to knead the lower back of the hunter.

            It was tense, like a stone that was flush with heat as he tried to loosen the muscles. He heard a small intake of breath from Dean, but he remained still and quiet. His patience and his hands were long and in time, he felt the tenseness depart as began widening his reach, again exploring Dean’s body. The previous time, it was a rush with no finesse, a mad dash to release. Yet he remembered how this very body, this man clung to him, brushed his taunt skin against his. That feeling of _want_ began building up in him. For a while, or a moment, he felt something…fulfillment and yet…unfulfilled at the same time.

            “Uh…Cas?” Dean asked slowly turning his head.

            “You…are very tense Dean,” he said pushing deeper into the muscles, getting to knots underneath. There was a slight shudder from the man, a silent agreement to continue on. And he did but now that the muscles were loose, he began to work deeper. Inching back down he was again at the cleft of Dean’s ass when he pushed in with his thumbs to a huge knot located there.

            At the extra pressure, Dean grabbed the clean towel and jumped out of the bed quickly wrapping the towel around him. “What the hell Cas...that wasn’t just taking….”he looked at him, “friends don’t do that.”

            “Except for that-” he said on the defense. From the noticeable bulge in the towel, he knew Dean was enjoying it and more importantly, he was relaxing. But the fear he had thought Dean had let go was still very much in the man.

            “Dammit Cas! I told you about that-“

            “Yes Dean, to never speak of it,” he spat back. “And I don’t care. It’s just us here,” and to make his point, he walked right up to Dean. “I’m here to help you Dean.”

* * *

 

            He won’t lie, he knew Cas was done with taking out the glass moments ago. But he liked how those deft fingers swept across his ass and back. Weird? Not really. He’s had massages before, and sure, those previous time it was some sensual girls, but it was nice. He had taken a beating and this does make things feel waaaaaay better.

            But a little voice in the back of his mind came up. _‘This is Cas…touching you…naked you,’_ was what it said. He tried to drown it out but just letting Cas massage him into a puddle, but as the moments went on, the voice got louder. _‘You’re using him. Like you always do. Stop leading him on. This shit ain’t right.’_ In his own mind, he began to argue with himself. _‘This isn’t anything. This isn’t about sex. We’re friends.’_ Friends who had sex before he was reminded. And his dick was more than interested in that line of thought.

            “Uh….Cas?” he asked as he lifted his head. Those hands didn’t waver as Cas told him he was very tense. As he said those, Cas drifted a hand over his still very tender ass and for some reason, that sent off a red alarm in his mind. So he jumped out of there like water in hot oil and wrapped a towel around him. As he tied it, he knew he was half hard but seeing it was a blow to that voice. “What the hell Cas...that wasn’t just taking….”he looked at him, “friends don’t do that.” He said weakly as he looked at his angel.

            “Except for that-”

            “Dammit Cas! I told you about that-” he began to say before Cas got right into his face.     

            “Yes Dean, to never speak of it,” Cas shot back. “And I don’t care. It’s just us here. I’m here to help you Dean.”

            He felt the heat emanating from the smaller man. For some reason, Cas was always warm now that he’s human. “Cas…it’s…”

            Cas raised his hand and placed it over his chest where his tattoo was. “You’ve been tense until a couple days ago Dean. At least in your mind. Something changed.” Cas’s hand pressed more firmly against him, “how does it feel when I lay my hand on you?”

            He bit his lip, a flurry of emotions going on as he tried to project a façade that he was cool with this. “Nothing.”

            Cas, undeterred, drug his hand down, just feather light on his bruised ribs. “And now?”

            “I’m good,” he lied as he tried to keep the truth that he wanted more. This was not what he planned, or what he wanted. But holy shit, he _needed_ this. Not the tenseness of his muscles, not a successful mission. He needed to be accepted as he is, shit and all… and Cas was offering that. Cas is the closest friend he has ever had. Even closer than Sam. No matter what he did, how many times he failed or was selfish. Cas was there.

            Cas, the man whose hand is hovering about his dick and looing so deep into him that saw no reason to lie. To deny what he always knew. He gabbed Cas’s wrists and pinned him on the wall beside him. To stop Cas from reaching more, but god, _he_  was the one touching Cas now. He lowered his head, “I’m no good Cas. I being hell and death on everyone.”

            There was no fight in him as Cas just calmly said, “I don’t care Dean.”

            “What do you want from me Cas?” he asked putting all his cards on the table.

            “You,” Cas replied in small voice like he was scared. And hell, he was too.

            ‘ _Who the hell wants a fucked up broken man like me?’_ he asked himself. He couldn’t believe it, Cas must pity him. _‘Or a pity fuck’,_ he imagined. If that’s what Cas wants, well he can have it. There’s no way Cas can actually _want_ him. Not that way. “Fine,” he said still pining Cas to the wall as he sloppily tried to kiss him.

            But Cas shied away from his advance. He didn’t reciprocate. At all. Hell, if he had to guess, Cas looked sad. Then he heard a voice eerily like Sam’s and Bobby’s combined come to him. _‘He actually loves you, you dumbass.’_ It struck him as he stopped. The angel did. Really did have a torch for him. And this…this sloppy attempt to make out was all he was getting? Hell no, Cas _deserved_  better than that from him at least.

            So he let go of his grip and took turned his body slightly so he can face Cas directly. Words were of no use as everything was told between their eyes. Closing them, he felt his nose nudge past Cas’s, so close he could smell the mint in his breath. He hovered above this lips before, just ever so soft, landing a soft kiss. As he drew back he opened his eyes and looked at Cas’s response.

            The light in those blue orbs was bright, but not filled with want. It was something he’d seen so rarely. Happiness. Pure happiness and relief. And as Cas came close, he again kissed the man. Longer this time before he could actually taste the happiness from the man reverberated with his own. His hands pulled at Cas’s waist as another pair began brushing the back of their neck. It was like a solar flare, so bright and hot as they began to kiss deeper and deeper. The scent of his angel, sweaty, earthy yet comforting. The feel, the smell and warmth of Cas sent signals all over his body that this was okay because he _is_ okay.

 

* * *

 

            This wasn’t he wanted. Not exactly. Sure, he wanted to comfort and relax Dean, but this was a bit of a surprise to him. For a moment there it was a real toss-up on how Dean would react. But Dean kissing him? Passionately? It was too good to be true. But it was happening and as the kissing deepened, he forgot to event think for himself. No, his body did that, letting Dean’s hands so firmly pressed against his hips guide them closer.

            Their breathing hastened between the small breathes they could steal between locked lips. The scent of sweat, gun oil and leather with something that is uniquely Dean filled his nostrils as a rough unshaven skin ran against his cheek. His own hands ran down the firm stomach before loosening the towel. A soft thud on the floor and a small gasp escaped from Dean caused them to stop momentarily. Dean looked at him again, and smiled the ‘like what you see’ smile with the raised eyebrows. His response was to again kiss the hunter.

            Or it was before a knock came from the door before a Linda hollered at the door. “Hey you two, I need to wash these clothes or get new ones.” Together they looked at the door in silence before they looked at each other. One look from Dean and he knew the moment was over as reality came back.

            “I…uh…” Dean stammered as he stepped back retrieving the towel from the floor and looking at him embarrassed. “Well,” Dean went on before he looked at the door, “we’ll get ya some new clothes Mrs. Tran. Just let me…uh, take a shower.”

            There was a murmur of agreement from the other side before Dean turned back to him. “I guess we’re gonna take her to get some new clothes…” the hunter said deflated to the floor still clutching the towel.

            An uneasy awkward air filled the room. The dam that was brought down just a moment ago was quickly rebuilding itself with Dean. “Dean…I,” he muttered not sure what to say.

            “Naw, it’s…it…don’t worry about it Cas,” Dean replied as he wrapped the towel around himself. “Thanks for…for getting that stuff out.”

            The frustration came up in him again. “And what about earlier?” he asked with a bit of an edge. Pausing at the doorway with his back to him, Dean was silent. “Are we going to pretend that that didn’t happen either?” he pressed further.

            “Yes,” was all he heard before the door closed.

 

* * *

 

            The only thing to be heard was the Impala tires running on the asphalt on the road back to the bunker. Linda was in the back, dozing again behind large sunglasses. Cas is beside him, but adamantly not talking to him and kept his gaze forward or out the side window. Anger simmered under that cold disposition and he couldn’t blame him. That was a dick move he did last night, again denying what they both knew.

            He realized it the second he closed the door. Maybe he should’ve said ‘not right now’ or ‘later’ instead of going on to agree that he wanted to go back to pretending. But with Linda right next door, even though the walls shielded the sight and sound, he was again afraid. On reflex he wanted to hide and run away again. Rationally, he knew that Linda probably didn’t hear anything, let alone suspect. But it didn’t matter once he stepped into the stinging hot shower. He had messed up. Cas pretending to be asleep only confirmed he had when he finally exited the bathroom.

            So now on the road back to the bunker where he had a still pissed off brother waiting with his best friend pissed off beside him. This sucked ass. And as soon as he had parked the car in the garage, Cas stormed off while Kevin rushed passed them to his waiting mother. Mother and son hugged and had all that family love crap while Sam looked at him from a distance before he walked to him. His stare had thawed but he knew he wasn’t out of the dog house.

            “Thanks for finding her,” Sam said flatly. “But what’s up with Cas?”

            “Don’t know,” he lied before even thinking about what to say.

            “Bullshit Dean. What’d you do?” Sam asked leaning over him.

            “It’s none of your business Sam,” he said honestly. This…thing, is between him and Cas. Or it was at least.

            A shuffle from the Trans made their heads turn but mother and son ignored them as they exited the garage. With them gone, Sam stepped closer intimidating him with his height. “No Dean, it is my business cause Cas is my friend too. You didn’t try to get him laid again did you?” His shocked silence was taken by Sam as confirmation. “Oh my god Dean! He almost died the last time he had sex. You think he’s just going to shack it off like you do and look for another lay? He’s not like you Dean!” Sam scolded him before also walking away with a dark cloud thundering.

            “God, how is this my life,” he mused as he ran his hand down his face. Oh right. There is not God, at least one who cares.

            It was foolish to hope that Dean had changed. That one moment was a fluke. A mistake. At least a mistake to Dean. He is no longer naïve to human culture and knew enough that Dean would not change, not for him. He wasn’t worth it, with all the grief and pain he had inflicted on the brothers. Anger at his stupidity was but a mask for his heartache. In the car ride back to the bunker was painful to bear. Part of him wanted to yell at Dean and another wanted to get as far away from the man as possible. Each fueled the other to the point that once they had stopped, he nearly ran to ‘his’ room in the bunker bypassing Sam and Kevin.

            Once in his room, he looked over the books he had left there last on the desk. Mindlessly he picked on up just of the sake to look like he was doing something. And he should, since there were all the angels about the Earth and a knight of Hell to contend with after all. But his focus on was on his…situation with Dean.

            A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. “Cas?” called Sam from the other side. Of course it was Sam.

            “Come in,” he replied before the door opened and Sam entered before closing the door behind him.

            “Just wanted to say thank you for finding Linda…and for watching out for Dean.” Sam said as he sat on the bed. “I know he can be an ass sometimes-”

            “That is what I believe, you would call an understatement,” he interjected as he turned his back to Sam to put the book down on the desk.

            Sam was silent for a moment before he heard a sigh, “what did he do now?”

            What should he say? That Dean kissed them and then rejected him? That he laid out what he felt plainly to only see it shoved away after a glimpse of what could be? To tell Sam that he wanted to leave because eventually it would be too much for either of them to be near each other? Instead, he said, “nothing.”

            Sam let out a groan of frustration, “oh my god! You’re as bad as him!” Hearing Sam so exasperated was not usual nor a comparison to Dean so he turned to face him. Brushing his hair back, Sam looked at him. “Look, I’m your friend Cas. You can tell me ‘cause I can tell its eating you up. Dean isn’t going to say a word and if you two bury this, it’s only gonna turn ugly.” Sam pointed at himself, “case in point.”

            “I told Dean I wanted him,” he blurted out before realizing what he just said.

            A silence hung in the air. Sam blinked at him a couple times as he tried to think of a way to deter Sam from inquiring further. He couldn’t think of one. “So…uh, you _want_ Dean? As in…want want?”

            He took a deep breath. Sam is incredibly intelligent, observant and a friend. Denial would delay the inevitable and Sam _is_ offering to listen at least. Which is more than Dean would ever offer. “Yes…though it is complicated,” he confirmed.

            Sam nodded, “you know, a lot of people joked about that. Balthazar, Crowley, Metatron…goes on…hell, even I suspected.” Smiling, “remember when Dean called for you once and you appeared even after I prayed to you over a year?”

            He did, “yes. And it is true, Dean and I do hold a deeper bond between each other.”

            “Well, I didn’t imagine it went _that_ deep. But it’s cool…” Sam smiled at him in assurance, “at least I’m cool with it. But I have to break it to you man, Dean…he isn’t into guys. I mean, sure, he’ll flirt with dudes but…hell, who doesn’t? And, and it’s cool you’re into them…I guess what I am trying to say is that having…uh, that, with Dean isn’t-”

            “If you’re referring to sex, that is not my concern. Besides, we have already had intercourse.”

            Speechless, Sam ended his thought and just gaped at him. It might have been petty, but it actually felt good to say that aloud to someone. “You…him….” Sam said stupefied pointing out the door.  

            “Had sex. Once…though it wasn’t penetrative, so I am not really sure that count as sex-”

            “Okay,” Sam said holding up his hands, “TMI there dude. But…okay, so uh, when?”

            “After you dived into the Cage. Dean was in bad shape. I offered solace.”

            “That explains a lot…” Sam said thinking to himself. “Yeah, okay, that make a whole lot of sense now.” Getting up, Sam placed a hand on his shoulder, “we both know Dean can be an ass. And really doesn’t do emotions. I’ve seen him shed a tear, like maybe a dozen times. But he cares about you. Otherwise he wouldn’t have beat himself up for losing you or kicking you out. And he’s beating himself about something right now. Guess ‘cause it was because of you.”

            “We…had a moment, then it was interrupted and now he wants to pretend it never happened,” he summarized.

            Sam nodded, “okay, but he didn’t storm out, get shitfaced or anything. Which means, he’s _really_ regretting it.”

            “So what do you want me to do about it? Because I’m tired of this…thing between us Sam. We all have other responsibilities and I can’t focus because…how do you humans deal with so much conflicting emotions?”

            “We just do. And I know, it’s not easy. But, if you give Dean a little space, he’ll make it up to you. Promise. Just don’t corner him, because he’ll just lash out.”

            A sigh escaped him, “okay, I will. But we do have other things to do Sam. I can’t let my…romantic impulses blind me to what needs to be done.”

            Nodding, “true, but we’re not machines Cas. There is no off switch. You’ll have to deal with them and if you can get this sorted out with Dean, I bet you we’ll all work better for it.”

            The logic was hard to dispute, “very well,” he agreed before looking at Sam in the eye. “But don’t tell Dean I told you this.”

            “Oh hell no, if he knew I knew, he would blow a gasket and then deny everything. So no, my lips are sealed.”

            “Thank you Sam.”

            “What are fiends for Cas?”

 

* * *

 

            Engine looked good, filters changed and new oil. He even detailed baby since he had nothing better to do. Well, he could help look for cases and try to find a way to stop Abaddon and send the angels back up. But between Sam, Kevin and Cas, all the research was being done. In fact, Kevin pointedly told him that he’s better off not helping them as he got in his way. Then again, even with his mom there, Kevin didn’t like anyone to be in his way. At least his zeal to get this done and over made him work faster.

            The past couple of day he felt pretty much shunned by everyone. At least Sam didn’t glare at him as much…instead, it almost seemed like Sam was sorry for him. And Cas…he looked resigned as he sought a way to fix his mistake. He sighed, he needed to fix this…thing between him and Cas. Sam he knew(hoped) would eventually let him back in his good graces. But Cas? There wasn’t anything really tying him here.  

            _‘Unless I make something to tie him here,’_ he thought. The motel, when he kicked Cas out, hell, a thousand times before he knew there was something nameless between them. Pretending didn’t make it go away. Ignoring it won’t either. He’d thought about this before, and this time, he needed to do something different. As he wiped the last of the wax off the hood, he realized what he needed to do.

            A half hour later, he knocked on Cas’s door. “Come in,” Cas replied as he opened the door. Cas sat at his small desk and looked at him surprised. “Dean?”

            “Yeah, listen…I want to get out for a while. I’d like it if you came too,” he asked with his best smile.

            Arching an eyebrow, “why?”

            “Cause…well, to cut to the chase, we need to talk.”

            Cas huffed at that, “talk? That’s so-”

            “Unlike me, I know. But we need to Cas. And I really am going stir crazy in here. So please?”

            It seemed like eternity, but Cas put down the book. “Okay. I’m hungry though and if we’re going out, can we get something to eat?”

            “Sure thing, and hell, you can pick where.” He felt like a girl, being all giddy with excitement. Of course, that did nothing to quell the dread growing in the pit of his stomach. Even when they left the bunker and out on the open road, it grew. What possessed him to think that he needed to ‘talk’ to Cas. Oh right, because he liked the son of a bitch.

            The ride was just small talk, updates on what they had researched and what’s going on out there. Nothing neither of didn’t know already. When Cas pointed at a diner, their conversation over their dinner was pretty much benign. The angel suspected that he was being buttered up for something, but went along anyway. It wasn’t until they were on the road back that he took a small dirt path to the middle of the field.

            After the killed the engine, he popped the trunk, grabbed a couple of brews, and leaned up looking at the stars. Cas didn’t say anything, but followed his lead. He handed him a beer as he continued to look at the night sky. The sounds of a warm Kansas night was the only thing to be heard.

            “The stars look so small from here, so far away, and yet they remain bright,” Cas said. “Most of them are smaller than the sun, but that one,” he pointed to one, “is about a hundred times bigger.”

            “You know, Sam tells me that too. Then he would go on about the constellations, and the stories about them, and, god, the kid wouldn’t shut up.” He laughed quietly recalling when they started doing this. “I just liked that no matter what weather, where I was or doing, that those stars are still shining. Makes you think.”

            “Yes…I suppose it does,” Cas agreed.

            “And I’ve been thinking,” he said as he turned to Cas, “that I’ve been a dick.”

            Cas folded his arms, “oh?”

            “Yeah, really. And,” he took a breath, “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

            “About what?”

            “About being a dick.”

            ‘You’re usually being a dick Dean. You may want to specify.”

            He rolled his eyes, “for being a dick by pretending that I didn’t kiss you. For leading you on. Asking you to keep what we did secret.”

            Tilting his head at him whenever he’s confused, Cas looked at him. After a moment, “and what did we do?”

            Damn, Cas was going to draw this out. Which, granted, was his right. “Having sex, making out…all of it.” He scratched the back of his head, “cause I realize, I…uh, like you too.”

            Cas looked at him earnestly, “okay…but let’s be honest Dean, how long before you deny this again? How long before you decide that you want to keep this all a secret because you feel that you don’t deserve it? That you want to keep your macho persona? Because I can’t keep going back and forth like this Dean. I’m not used to feeling these emotions and as much as I hate them, I have to admit I like them too. I…” Cas stalled.

            “I won’t because I fucking love you okay?” he answered more calmly than he expected. “I mean…don’t expect the impossible from me Cas? But you’re right. I’m tired of that shit, the lying, the pretending…the guilt. I’ve had enough of it. It almost cost me Sam and you…and…I can’t go through that again.” He looked at the ground, kicking the dirt after he made his point before looking at Cas.

            Cas, who seemed frozen with bewildered eyes. “You…love me?” he asked quietly.

            “Yes, I do and you know it. I know it. It’s…shit, I’ve never had the balls to say it alright?” He stepped closer to his angel, “I don’t know why, but I do. We’ve been through a lot. After Stull, after we…did it, that made me happy. You and your nerdy angel weirdness. You…you make me happy.”

            “So having a relationship with an ex-angel in a male body would not bother you then?”

            “No. Cause it’s _you_ that make me happy. Not that you were an angel, or a guy. It’s, I don’t know man. Asking the wrong guy. Sorry it only took forever for me to realize it.”

            “Dean, I did not intend for me to, fall is the word right?” he asked as Dean nodded. “I didn’t mean to fall for you. But the longer I stayed on Earth, helping you and your brother, the more affection I felt for you. It wasn’t until recently, by being human, how…strong that affection really was.”

            “Well, it’s one of the perks about being human,” Dean smiled before coming into his personal space. “Just don’t expect me to, uh, go domestic with you.”

            “So does this mean we can kiss?” Cas asked also leaning in closer.

            “Dude, I freakin’ hope so,” Dean answered before brushing his smiling lips to his. 


End file.
